


In the Beginning

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rutting, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Daryl is in history class when the whole world changes in the blink of an eye.  He escapes with classmates and his older brother, fleeing to the mountains running from things they don’t even fully understand.  This is the beginning of a new world.





	1. Now The Earth Was Formless

**Author's Note:**

> Ok- I LOVED the old 1984 movie, Red Dawn. And the opening scene with the kids in class when the attack happened has stuck with me for like thirty years! So I’m mashing it up with the Walking Dead. But instead of a communist attack, it’s the government trying to contain the walker epidemic. This puts together two of my favorite AU’s- High School and Zombie Apocalypse. Let’s see if it works! LOL! 
> 
> (FYI- Watching the 1984 version of Red Dawn is completely NOT necessary… but dude’s it’s a great flick. You should check it out anyway!)
> 
> Beta’d by the super-cool Stylepoints who heard my idea when I asked her to beta and said, and I quote, “I want in!”

Daryl leaned back in his chair anxiously tapping a foot as the teacher droned on about the attack on Pearl Harbor. Mr. Douglas was okay for a teacher. He was always really into his subject and sometimes Daryl was even interested. Not today though, no matter how hard Mr. Douglas tried to emphasize the absolute shock of the attack. Daryl looked around the room at all the empty seats. More than half the class had stopped showing up. Any excuse to skip, Daryl guessed. Must be nice to have the luxury to want to stay at your home instead of taking any opportunity to get the fuck out.

Daryl hated school but he hated home more, so school it was. He looked over his right shoulder at Carol. Wasn't surprised she was here. He'd seen marks on her that mimicked his own. She was probably here for the same reason as Daryl- simply because it wasn't _there_.

Rick Grimes was up front, like always. Didn’t expect him to shirk out of school. There might be a Sophomore class catastrophe that needed the class president immediately. Daryl would love to hate the kid. He was popular, always fucking happy, knew everybody. Kid never stopped smiling. Nice smile though. And since he was always nice to everyone, that even included Dixons, so Daryl gave him a pass. The guy’s buddy Shane was up there next to him. He was probably only showing up to keep his grades. Even _Daryl_ had heard that football scouts were already looking at him even though he was just a sophomore. And Daryl usually never heard anything. Hell, he barely talked to any of these people. School was just…someplace to go.

He glanced at the clock and cursed under his breath, still another twenty minutes. It was hard sometimes to know where he wanted to be. When he was at home it was like he wanted to go to school. When he was at school, he was always watching the clock to go home. Well, not home really. Just eager to leave. He was always just… waiting to be somewhere else. His plans weren’t to go straight home though that afternoon. Merle usually picked him up on Tuesdays and took him to Dale’s Camping Supply Store. Merle worked there and the old man who owned the place was kinda okay. Liked helping kids that had a rough start straighten out. Daryl kinda figured he might be able to get a job there too after he turned sixteen. Was a nice place, out in the woods before you got to the mountains. Away from everything.

Daryl looked over to the aisle by the open windows as a breeze caught his attention. Maggie Greene was twisting a finger through her hair and paying complete attention to the teacher. Goodie goodie. She probably showed up each day during the summer just in case. Glenn was in front of her reading something on the cell he was hiding from Mr. Douglas under his desk. Kid probably had pushy parents that made him show up. Noah was there. Nick. Spencer. Several others that Daryl didn’t know much about, but literally half the seats were empty.

Daryl had watched the news again that morning and it still made no more sense than it had been for the past few weeks. More people turning into cannibals or some crazy shit and long story, short - nobody knew nothing. Some would get bitten then turn sick and supposedly die and come back as more cannibals. There had to be an explanation. Always was. Probably some mosquito thing. Just another way the world was basically a shithole. He was pulled out of his daze by a folded piece of paper landing on his desk and he looked over and caught Carol’s eye. She pretty much kept to herself like he did. They had that in common, but they weren’t really friends. Not note-passing kind of friends, anyway.

He unfolded it quietly. _“Why isn’t anyone talking about it? The teachers aren't even mentioning that hardly anyone is here.”_

He looked over at her but she was feigning attention to Mr. Douglas. He clicked his pen and wrote, _“Pussies. They're all too scared to talk about what they don’t understand.”_

He wadded up the paper and tossed it back on her desk when Mr. Douglas turned to point to the clock in a dramatic display of how quick it all happened back in 1941.

He kept his eyes up front as Carol unfolded it and read. His gaze went from Mr. Douglas to Rick Grimes, just like it usually did. Daryl bit at his lip. He’d had a crush on that damn kid since Freshman year when Daryl couldn’t get his locker open and Rick stopped to help. Fucking   
Boy Scout always trying to save the day. He did it though. Got the locker open. Introduced himself and then went on to the next new kid in trouble to do more good deeds. Kid will probably be a politician. Hell, got Daryl to vote in the stupid student election. He figured it would make assemblies a little easier on the eyes if Rick was the one up there kicking them off.

The note landed on his desk again and almost slid right back off but Daryl grabbed at it and opened it, not even trying to be subtle. Mr. Douglas was so wound up now about the casualties he wouldn’t even know if the whole damn room was empty or not. Christ the Chinese kid had been texting for the last ten minutes and Mr. D. hadn’t even noticed. 

Daryl read the note. _“There was one in my neighborhood last night- Jim. His mom had that cannibal thing last week and he got bit. The cops killed his mom right after but then Jim got sick from the bite. They said he was dead and had him in an ambulance and all of a sudden he got up and started trying to take a bite out of the paramedics. Took three cops and a bullet to the head to stop him! I SAW it! Do you think it’s contagious?”_

Daryl looked over to her. She was just a little waif of a thing. Always looked scared of something. And apparently she was so desperate for comfort that she was looking to a damn Dixon. That kinda desperation was almost enough to make Daryl start to worry about the mystery illness himself. He looked up at Mr. Douglas who was drawing something on the chalkboard and then leaned back in his chair and over towards her desk. “Don’t worry, man. Probably just a bad coroner at large in the outskirts of Atlanta. Probably some new drug that makes people seem dead and then makes ‘em out of their heads and shit,” he whispered.

The blond sitting behind him leaned forward, Jessie he thought her name was, and whispered “I heard they were seeing it in Alexandria, Virginia too. And Los Angeles. I have a cousin out there. She’s seen it. Said when one of them turn after they seem dead, if you get bit, you get that fever and die like they did. Then come back and try to attack others.”

Daryl turned back to her. Damn priss just trying to start gossip. Couldn’t she see how terrified Carol was? What a bitch, Daryl thought.

“Media is just makin’ a mountain out of a molehill, Carol. Don’t worry about it,” Daryl said, then gave a narrow-eyed scowl to Jessie. 

Suddenly Glenn raised his hand, and Daryl rolled his eyes. Kid was always asking questions. Daryl was starting to wonder if he got an allowance that was based on the number of questions he asked each damn class.

“Glenn,” Mr. Douglas said, stopping in mid-sentence. “Question?”

“Yeah, Um… Did anyone else get any text messages or anything about being under attack?”

“What?” the teacher asked as the sound of several texts from various directions filled the quiet room.

Rick pulled his phone out of his back pocket and silently read the message that came through to him then turned back to face the class. “My dad’s a cop,” Rick said. “He just messaged me and said we should stay put and barricade ourselves until he can get here.” 

“Barricade ourselves from what?” Maggie asked. And when Daryl looked over to her he stood, jaw dropped at the sight out the window- dozens… no hundreds of men floating to the ground from parachutes. All seemed to be wearing some kind of protective suits. 

The entire class went to the window, everyone talking at once.

“Stay calm, class. I'll go see what's happening,” Mr. Douglas said as he rubbed a hand over his bald head. Daryl watched as three of them landed in the same general area and each one reached around to arm themselves with some kind of automatic weapon they’d had strapped over their shoulder.

“Hey, Douglas,” Daryl yelled. “These guys are packin’. Don't think going out there is a good idea.”

“Just stay in here, everyone. I’m sure it’s just some kind of drill gone wrong.”

Daryl looked back out the window. As soon as each man hit the ground, he unhooked his parachute and had his weapon ready. Some headed for the shopping Plaza across the field, some towards the hospital over the hill and some headed right towards the school.

“Al Qaeda?” Rick asked. And Daryl was startled by the sound of his voice so close. He hadn’t even realized who was beside him as they lined up along the windows to watch. 

Daryl looked back out the window and squinted. “Nah. Ain't ethnic. Most of ‘em look white. Plus those suits- like something from the CDC. Maybe this has to do with that cannibal sickness.”

Daryl let his mind wrap around the implication of the sight in front of him. If they were trying to contain it…

Mr. Douglas appeared outside the window with his arms raised. “Think you fellas might be off course,” he said. Daryl could hear him through the opened windows.

One of men in the suits raised his weapon and fired, hitting Mr. Douglas directly in the head. Daryl saw the blood spray and he grabbed Rick by the shirt and got them both to the ground as bullets were sprayed into the classroom. Everyone screamed and glass shattered all around them. 

“Holy shit!” Rick shouted. Both boys stayed down covering their ears, several of the others doing the same. After the first burst of bullets ended, Daryl looked around. Jessie was lying in front of them, blood seeping through her white blouse and part of her blonde hair turning red before their eyes. “Oh my God,” Rick whispered and he reached out and put a hand on her stomach to nudge her. “Jessie. Jessie.”

“Rick, man, she’s dead,” Daryl said. 

“Oh shit, for real?” Rick’s eyes were wide and confused. Before Daryl could answer, another round of bullets shot through the windows and they heard more in the hall. 

“We have to get out of here,” Daryl said, his voice low. “Through the music room. Out the parking lot on the East Wing.” Daryl didn’t have time to absorb everything happening around him, he needed to act, move, run. He could think later. The priority was escape. 

“Everyone!” Rick shouted over the sound of bullets. “We gotta go, follow Daryl!”

Daryl didn’t even have time to process how it happened that he was leading this escape, but he was used to trying to get out of dangerous situations at home and it was finally a skill that was coming in handy. Half the students crouched and followed behind Rick. The other half sobbing, too stunned to move, or dead. He was glad to see that Carol was in the group that was following him when he glanced back. She probably had some underlying survival skills, too.

They had to move quick if these guys were already in the building. He could hear the sound of bullets ricocheting in the halls. There were students running in both directions but Daryl knew how to get out. He _always_ knew where his exits were. The music room. It was the furthest from where the parachutes were landing. They could make a run for the woods across the street. He reached back and grabbed Rick’s hand so they wouldn’t be trampled and separated in the hall and he watched as Rick grabbed Carol’s and she grabbed Shane’s and so on. They got across the crowded hall without too much trouble, Rick trying to tell everyone to head out the Music room windows. Running for his life and still trying to save everyone else. He’d probably get a merit badge for that. 

Once they got to the music room, Rick and Daryl both reflexively turned to help the women out first. It was just Carol and Maggie who had made it that far. Then they helped Glenn out. Shane went next and Daryl and Rick went through separate windows at the same time. 

There were bodies already laying in the parking lot and some of the men in the yellow suits were aiming at the students running across the field. 

 

“Fuck,” Daryl said as he watched several of them fall.

Outside was chaos, there were cars pulling out and kids cramming into vehicles, running, screaming. Then Daryl heard the sweetest sound in his world. The sound of that old shitty aqua blue pick-up of Merle’s. The sound that meant his big brother was home and whatever beating Daryl was taking would be postponed while the old man got into it with Merle. 

“Daryl!” Merle shouted. “Get in!” He pointed to the bed of the truck and they all ran for it, Carol and Maggie climbing in first, Rick and Daryl right behind them. Merle started moving before Glenn and Shane climbed in and they ran after the truck. Rick reached a hand out for Shane and pulled him in as Daryl did the same with Glenn. 

More students chased after them and Rick turned to Daryl. “We need to get as many as we can!” He reached out and helped another kid in. Noah. Daryl had biology with him. Then Daryl and Noah both helped pull in Abraham as Shane screamed for him. The red-headed football player weighed a damn ton, but sometimes under stress the human body can do amazing things and Noah and Daryl managed to get him into the bed of the truck as Merle slowed to take a turn. 

Daryl looked over at Rick who was helping Tyreese in as well. Then they hit the main drag and Merle slammed on the breaks. “Fuckers are everywhere!” he shouted from the front seat, then he turned the wheel and sped straight through the hayfield, a spray of bullets whizzed by them. Everyone in the bed of the truck ducked low as the glass from the back of the pick-up shattered.

“Oh fuck, Oh fuck, Oh fuck.”

Daryl couldn’t even tell who was saying it as they flew through the field, the sound of bullets becoming distant and his heartbeat now front and center. He looked around at everyone in the truck. Shane was leaning over Abe, muttering the “Oh fuck’s”. The broad-shouldered red-head who Daryl only knew from homeroom was gone, his head blown literally in half. Daryl looked around and Tyreese wasn’t there anymore. He must have been hit and fallen out. 

Everyone was stunned in silence except for Shane who was sobbing over Abe. “Brother, no,” he was whispering as Rick put a comforting hand on his good friend’s shoulder. Daryl stepped over the others to get to the blown out window and climbed in to sit next to his big brother. 

“Saved my ass this time for sure, bro.” 

“Guess the old man was just a warm up,” Merle muttered.

They were quiet a moment and it was a Dixon silence that meant “thanks” and “I’m glad you’re here.” And it was the kind of thing that felt like a hug to Daryl and he needed it. “We should head to the mountains, you think?”

Merle nodded. “Radio made it sound like they’re trying to contain this sickness. If they’re trying to take out the whole town, we just gotta get out of town. Stop at Dale’s. Get some supplies.”

Merle looked in the rearview and then back at Daryl. “Had to bring half the school with yah?”

“Couldn’t leave everyone, Merle. Rick and I got as many as we could.”

“Dixon’s don’t need no one but ourselves. They’ll be more work than help. You think any of them can hunt? Know how to survive?”

Daryl scowled at his brother. “It’ll just be a few days. Things will get straightened out.”

Merle barked out a laugh. “When did you become an optimist?” 

Christ, when had he? That didn’t even sound like Daryl. He shrugged. “I’m not being optimistic, but Christ, Merle. This can’t be like… the end of the world.”

Merle looked over, his eyes like ice. And the non-answer was more answer than Daryl ever wanted. They made it to Dale’s without running into any more soldiers and the Dixon’s jumped out of the cab. “Inside,” Merle barked and everyone… but Abraham… scrambled out of the truck and into the front door of the small shop. Dale came out with a shotgun aimed. 

“Christ! Merle! You got him!” Dale shouted and put the gun on the counter and patted Daryl on the shoulder. Not a move Daryl was ever happy about but considering the circumstances, he had more pressing issues to deal with than his aversion to sudden touches.

“Got a couple of ‘em, apparently” Merle said with an eye roll.

“What’s happening?” Carol asked, her voice shaky. Rick put a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s ok. We’ll figure it all out,” he said quietly. He really had a way of putting people at ease. 

“You kids pack that truck up,” Dale said as he started taking boxes of bullets out of the locked up case and setting them on the glass counter. Take all the supplies you can and get up to the mountains. It ain’t safe down here. Radio says they’re wiping out whole towns where the virus has been spotted. Gets spread by the bite.”

“You’re coming with us,” Merle said as he started loading up a duffle with shotguns and shells. 

“I’ll be behind you. Waiting on my nieces to show. They’re on their way. I’ll meet you up at the cabin.” Dale was boxing up cans of soup for them as he talked. “Get the kerosene, Merle. You’ll need everything you can load up.” 

Rick and Shane started filling bags with food and water bottles from the cooler. Maggie, Glenn and Carol were grabbing back packs and filling them with knives and flashlights and lighters, anything they could get out of the shelves at the register. Noah was behind the counter grabbing some medical supplies.

Daryl picked up a couple tents and nudged Merle as he was gathering up the bag of guns. He gave his brother a nod to follow and they went out to the truck. 

“We gotta move Abe out of the back,” Daryl whispered as they got to the back of the pick-up.

“Who’s Abe?” Merle asked. Daryl dropped the tailgate and Merle’s face fell. 

“Oh. Shit.”

“He was a good friend of Shane’s, I think,” Daryl said softly. 

“Who’s Shane?”

“One of the fucking guys in there, Merle. Christ, what’s it matter?” He looked down at Abe, preparing to put his hands on the body. He’d never seen a dead body before Jessie back at the school, much less touch one, but he was fairly certain none of the other’s had much experience with this kind of thing either. And this was something he’d rather spare the rest of them. Daryl didn’t even know this damn guy and he felt like his guts were being ripped out just looking at him. He couldn’t imagine how Shane must feel. They picked him up, Merle at the head, what was left of it anyway, and Daryl at the feet. They placed him gently down on the pavement on the side of the building where no one could see him.

“Not much more we can do but put him out of sight, Daryl,” Merle said. He always could tell when Daryl was upset. No one else ever could but Merle.

He put an arm around his little brother. “We’ve had it hard all our lives baby brother. Looks like that was dress rehearsal. We’re survivors. You and me. Ok?”

“We ain’t gonna leave the rest of-”

“Ah for fuck’s sake. I ain’t saying we’re leaving anyone. Just saying… it’s gonna be okay.” 

Daryl nodded and bit at his thumbnail. They both looked up at the volley of gunfire in the distance. “We gotta get out of here,” Daryl said.

When they walked back around to the pick-up it was half full and Glenn was just pushing a box with another tent into the back. Shane came out with a couple cases of water and put them on the bed of the truck. He looked over at Daryl and Merle and nodded a thanks. “He was a good guy,” Shane said softly, then went back in for another load. 

Twenty minutes later, Dale barely had anything left in the store. Maggie and Carol were squeezed in the front of the cab between Merle and Daryl. Rick, Shane, Noah and Glenn were sitting awkwardly on top of all the supplies in the back. 

“There’s room, Dale,” Merle said. “Come with us. “You don’t know for sure if those girls of yours are even alive.”

“No- You kids are full up. I got the old Bronco. I’ll come up with more supplies and my girls as soon as I can.” 

“We’ll be waiting for you,” Merle said with a nod. And that was the last they ever saw him.


	2. And There Was Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two has the Stylepoints seal of approval! I appreciate the heck out of her diligent beta'ing!

By the time they made it to the top of the mountain ridge, the sun was starting to set in the sky. Now when Daryl looked out towards town he could see the bright flashes of light from the machine gun fire. There were several buildings in flames and no signs of fire trucks or police lights. It was eerie. Like another world. Like a movie. Like a nightmare he’d wake up from. They’d all been quiet on the drive, not even Carol was asking questions anymore. She probably knew the answers by now and didn’t want them confirmed. Maggie was trying to make phone calls. Daryl could hear the sound of the fast busy signal after each attempt. 

“Like 9/11,” Daryl said softly. She looked at him. “Catastrophe. Y’know. Everyone trying to use their phones at once and the lines all jammed. Keep trying. I bet you’ll get through soon.”

She nodded her thanks, but her eyes were watery and dim with hopelessness as she leaned forward and looked past Merle at the town below them. Finally Merle slowed the truck at a worn-down shack. Daryl knew it well. They’d come up to hunt together often when they were trying to get away from the old man. It was a place Daryl’d always felt safe, just he and Merle. Everyone climbed out of the truck, adrenaline diminished now and moving like zombies, shoulders hunched in defeat, heads down. Blank, stunned expressions on their young faces.

Rick looked at Daryl and waited like he expected Daryl to say something. “We go huntin’ here sometimes,” Daryl muttered for lack of knowing what else to say. Rick nodded. He had his cell in his hand and he used a thumb to dial out. It was such a fluid motion that Daryl was certain he’d been attempting to dial the entire drive up like Maggie was. He put the phone to his ear and Daryl could hear the fast busy. He hung up and tucked it in his pocket. 

Merle opened the tailgate as Rick walked over and held out a hand. “I’m Rick. Thank you.”

Merle looked at Rick’s hand and then grabbed two cases of water and shoved them into the kid’s arms.

“This is my brother, Merle. Merle,” Daryl said, and he pointed as he introduced them, “Rick, Shane, Maggie, Carol, Glenn and Noah.” 

Merle grunted. “Get everything in the cabin. Don’t got your mommas and daddies to wipe your asses no more.” Everyone took boxes and bags and followed Merle’s orders. Once they were all on their first trip in the house, Daryl grabbed the sleeping bags and narrowed his eyes at his brother. 

“Don’t gotta be a dick to ‘em. They’re scared. And you’re scared too so don’t act like ya ain’t.”

Merle picked up a box of soups and didn’t respond. Daryl knew the lack of a sarcastic response was Dixon for apology. If he hadn’t been sorry, he’d have ranted some more. As they all walked back and forth to the truck putting everything in the kitchen of the small one-bedroom cabin, Rick’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He’d had his hands full of shotgun shells and he dropped them to eagerly dig for the phone.

Daryl knelt and started picking them up as Rick shouted into the phone, “Dad?” Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched. Even Merle. Rick had a finger in one ear and the phone pressed tight to the other. Daryl kept stacking up the boxes by his feet listening to Rick’s end of the conversation.

“Dad, where are you? Are you ok?”

…

“We’re in the mountains.”

…

“Shane and some other kids from school. What’s wrong with your voice? Is Mom okay?”

…

“Noooo,” Rick whined into the phone, tears welling up in those pretty blue eyes of his.

…

“What was that? Dad? Dad?” Then all of them could hear a burst of bullets through the phone. “Dad!!! DAD!!!”

Carol looked worriedly over towards town and Daryl rose and put a gentle hand over Rick’s mouth. “We should stay quiet. We’re hiding,” he said softly and Rick pushed him off and walked away from their campsite. 

“That idiot’s gonna get lost,” Merle grumbled to Daryl. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Daryl said as he turned to follow.

“Daryl,” Merle shouted at him and he turned back to his older brother. Merle pulled a shotgun out of the bed of the truck and loaded it, handing it to Daryl. “We shouldn’t be anywhere unarmed.” It was a moment that hung heavy in the air. The knowledge of how much their world had changed in just one afternoon. Daryl pictured Mr. Douglas pointing at the clock and using his enthusiastic hand gestures to exaggerate how fast and sudden everything happened in Pearl Harbor. How quickly the world can change. He took the gun and walked quickly to catch up with Rick.

He followed quietly. Daryl was certain that Rick heard him and knew he was there, but the kid never turned. He found a spot on some large boulders and sat on one facing the town below.

Daryl stood quietly behind him, giving the guy time to think and be quiet. He understood the need for that. He liked quiet time himself when he was upset. After a few minutes of listening to birds and the onset of evening crickets occasionally interspersed with far off gunshots, Rick finally said, “You can sit if you want.”

Daryl climbed up on the rock and sat next to Rick resting the shotgun on the ground between them. Rick looked at it then up at Daryl. His eyes were red and swollen. Tear streaks ran down his cheeks. “I’m being a baby. Everyone lost family today. I should be back comforting Maggie and Carol.”

“You're not a super-hero, Rick. You’re allowed to feel too, y’know.” Daryl had no idea where the comforting words came from. It’s not like anyone ever talked to him like that. But he desperately wanted to give Rick some peace and some support. Daryl had never seen someone look so lost and so hurt. 

Rick kept his eyes on the horizon watching the end of their town below them. “Me looking weak will scare them,” he said.

“You had to hear your dad…” Daryl let the sentence die and tried to rephrase it so it wouldn’t sound as bad, “You heard it. No one is going to fault you for reacting.” Rick nodded although he still didn’t look convinced that he had a right to his sadness. 

“You lost people, too. You don’t look upset. You look strong. And ready,” Rick looked down at the gun again.

“I didn’t lose anyone. All I had was Merle and he’s here.”

Rick looked at him, his head cocked in question. Daryl answered before the question came. “Parents have been gone a long time already.”

“I’m sorry,” Rick said, a look of honest-to-God sympathy in his wet eyes. 

Daryl shrugged. “‘S okay. Wasn’t like… wasn’t like for you. With your Dad.”

“What’s that mean?”

Daryl really didn’t want to get into his own story. But Rick seemed to be helped by the distraction. He clearly liked caring for other people more than he liked caring for himself. 

“Mom was a long time ago. Barely remember her. And my Dad… he wasn’t like yours. Just y’know… wasn’t good.”

Rick kept his eyes on Daryl’s and nodded slow. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain’t your fault.”

Rick looked back out at the town. “The world is changed forever. School. Home. Everything in the world is gone.”

“We’re still alive,” Daryl countered. That had been his mantra for most of his life. After beatings, after not having enough to eat, after being afraid when his Dad came home drunker than usual. He was still alive. And he just needed to keep staying alive. It was instinct to keep going on. Human nature.

Rick choked out a cry and let his head fall to his chest. He leaned over and rested his head on Daryl’s knee and Daryl petted his wavy hair, a movement he vaguely remembered his mother doing. They sat like that, Rick crying and Daryl comforting him for quite a while until Rick had no tears left. He sat back up and looked over the town and neither boy spoke for a long while. 

“Thanks for coming after me. I’m not sure I’d remember how to get back to that cabin.”

Daryl smiled at him. “No problem. We all gotta take care of each other now.” Daryl felt bad. Everyone else had lost everything. But he was actually getting something. This was the most conversation he’d probably ever had with someone from school. He went from having nothing to having a group who seemed to depend on him and look to him, while everyone else lost all the family they’d ever known. He would make it up to them all. He would do everything he could to protect this group. He didn’t want any of them to feel loss again. Hell, he didn’t want to feel it either. 

He pictured Mr. Douglas again as he stood outside the school, the spray of blood as he was shot. He remembered at the start of the year, the man pulling him aside after class.

“Dixon,” he’d barked and Daryl remembered being surprised the guy even knew his name.

Daryl stood giving him a blank, empty look. He didn’t do anything wrong. That day. So he had no idea why he was being called up after class. 

“Graded a few of yesterday’s tests on World War I. You got an ‘A’.”

“So you think I cheated?” Daryl answered, certain that was the accusation. 

“No. I think you’re smarter than you let on around here. Don’t try to pretend you’re nothing in my class. I know you got it. I expect more ‘A’s’.”

Daryl had just stood there, dumbfounded. Not used to hearing things like that, someone believing in him. Someone giving a shit.

“You callin’ everyone after class that got an A?” Daryl had sassed.

“No. Just you. Don’t disappoint me. There’s more to you than your last name.”

If Daryl still remembered how to cry, he thought he might have had a few tears in him for Mr. Douglas. But really, he had Merle. They had supplies. They’d be ok until things died down. 

They heated up soup for dinner and ate together by the campfire. There wasn’t much talking. Maggie was still trying to dial out every few minutes as Glenn worriedly watched her. 

“My dad and sister,” she said in answer to the unasked question.

“My parents,” Glenn said quietly as he rested the bowl and spoon on the ground in front of him. The fire crackled, the sounds of crickets and scurrying squirrels in the forest around them.

“My parents and my older sister,” Shane said. 

It was a quiet unplanned sharing of who everyone was most worried about. Who they most likely were going to have to accept being gone forever. Rick never spoke. They’d all heard his family’s fate. Merle and Daryl stayed quiet as well. Carol didn’t make a peep.

“My mom and my twin brother,” Noah added. Daryl had forgotten he was a twin but he remembered seeing them together in school. They were identical. He sympathized most with the ones who had siblings because if Merle had been lost, that would have been Daryl’s everything. 

That night they sat around a campfire while Glenn tried to get something on the radio. After a while they found an announcement on a loop being broadcast through the static.

“...Los Angeles, Richmond, Toronto, Atlanta, Orlando, Dallas. There have been incidents now reported in New York and Baltimore. Attempts to contain the virus have failed. Widespread accounts of dead rising and attacking the living are being reported in the United States, Canada, China...” 

They lost the station and Glenn adjusted the dial to pick up another voice. This one sounded live, “... WATL. I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be able to broadcast. I’m being told the dead are at our door. Like I said, it seems from our callers that the CDC attempt to contain the virus has failed. The hospital is on fire. There is no help. If you can hear this broadcast, you need to get as many supplies as you can and flee the city. Stay away from populated areas. Get to….” The station went to a long beep and then into static.

Merle stood. “We should keep two people on watch at all times. Four hour shifts. I’ll take first.”

“I’ll help you,” Rick offered. 

“Get me after,” Daryl said. “I’ll take the next.”

“I can take the next, too,” Shane added. 

They had several tents set up around the cabin. The girls were to take the one-bedroom inside and the men all slept outside, Daryl and Merle in one tent, Shane and Rick in another and Glenn and Noah in the third. 

“Good watch point is probably over by those rocks where we were earlier, Rick. Can see the road, any headlights coming up. Can see the town. Still close enough to hear any noises around here.”

Merle nodded. He’d know right where Daryl meant. They knew these woods fairly well from hunting. “Try not to be an asshole, okay?” Daryl whispered as Merle grabbed two of the shotguns.

“You know how to use one of these?” the older Dixon asked Rick. Rick shook his head. 

“We’re all gonna have to have some gun lessons in the morning then,” Merle said. “This is a new world and football scholarships and straight A’s ain’t gonna do ya shit.”

Daryl turned to Rick. “Sorry, that’s as close to ‘not an asshole’ as he can get. Try not to let him get under your skin.” 

Rick smiled for the first time that day. “It’s okay. I kinda like him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was absolutely humbled and tickled to death at all the enthusiastic comments on the first chapter! I hope I can live up to the excitement. Hope you enjoyed this chap.


	3. And There Was Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by stylepoints!

Daryl was sitting on the rocks with Shane as the sun came up. They’d started their shift a few hours ago when Merle and Rick came back and woke them, reporting that there were no more flashes of gunfire and the only thing they saw were a few buildings still burning. Shane was peering through the binoculars, scanning the town below now that they had a bit of light. 

“I see a lot of them. They walk different. Shuffle.”

Daryl nodded. He’d actually never exchanged words with Shane before all this. He was Rick’s best friend, as far as Daryl knew, but he didn’t have that same way of talking with everyone that Rick had. Shane handed the binoculars to him and pointed. “Take a look.”

He put the binoculars to his eyes and focused on a group of the dead, watching them shuffle along aimlessly. Suddenly one of their heads exploded and Daryl sat up straighter. “Someone’s alive down there. Shooting at them.”

Shane took the binoculars back and tried to focus them on the scene unfolding below them. Daryl jumped at the sound of footsteps behind them. It was Carol and Noah. They all watched Shane as he reported what he saw.

“Yeah, shooting. Two people… shit… kids running. And a man trying to cover them by… Oh shit-” Shane stopped talking but kept the binoculars focused on whatever he was watching.

“What’s happening?” Carol asked quietly. 

“Didn’t make it. The dead are… like those weird stories in the news. Eating.” Shane shook his head and let the binoculars hang around his neck. Carol climbed up between them. 

“Can I see?” she asked. Shane handed her the binoculars. Daryl watched her scan the town slowly. 

“I think you have to get them in the head,” she said, looking over at Daryl. “Remember I told you about that one in my neighborhood? He was supposed to be dead and when he came back and started biting and … eating… or whatever… he didn’t stop until the one officer got him in the head.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows and looked at Shane who was also paying close attention. “If you look,” she said, “the ones walking don’t have gunshots in the head. The ones laying on the ground finally not moving… they do.” She handed the binoculars to Daryl and he scanned as best he could and nodded. “Yeah. Good. That’ll be helpful. Good job, Carol.” 

They all walked back to the cabin in silence. Rick was gathering firewood and the others were eating granola bars. Eventually everyone gathered around the fire pit.

“We need to have some kind of plan,” Rick said, breaking the silence.

“My plan is not to die,” Merle grumbled.

“We need a _real_ plan,” Rick snapped back. 

“Plan all you want,” Merle said, his mouth full of granola bar. “Shit happens and shit’s gonna keep on happenin’. Wasn’t my plan to spend the rest of my life babysitting but-”

“Merle,” Daryl interrupted. “Enough, man.”

“It’s okay, Daryl. He’s right. We’re gonna have to adapt and roll with what happens. I know that. But… I can’t just sit here. We have to _do_ something,” Rick said, his voice full of conviction and control. He was definitely a man of action. Someone who wanted to control his fate as best he could and Daryl admired that. Action always spoke louder than words and Rick was a man of action. He wasn’t just all talk like some Sophomore class presidents probably were.

Glenn turned the radio back on and scanned for stations. It was nothing but static. 

“We need to go into town and check on our families,” Maggie said quietly. “That’s what we could do.”

Merle shook his head. “No. Everyone’s gone-”

“You don’t know that,” Glenn interrupted, sounding as angry as Daryl had ever seen him.

“We should,” Rick said quietly. “We should go down. We’re gonna need more supplies if we have to stay here for longer than a few days. A few of us can go with addresses and just try to check on the families while we’re there.”

“No one here knows how to shoot a damn deer much less a walking corpse,” Merle grumbled. “Suicide mission.”

“Not if I go,” Daryl offered. “I’m a good shot.”

“I have my driver’s license,” Noah said. “Know how to get around down there.”

“I’ll go, too,” Rick said. “Merle, can you stay here and keep everyone else safe? Maybe teach Shane and some of the others how to use the weapons?”

Merle glared at Rick. “Don’t. I’m not as goddamn dumb as you think, asshole.”

“What?” Rick asked, his eyebrows lifted in confusion.

“Don’t try to handle me.”

Carol curled in on herself at all the raised voices and Daryl patted her knee, trying to let her know it would be okay.

“He ain’t trying to handle yah, Merle. You know how to use a weapon and I know how to use a weapon. One of us needs to stay and one of us needs to go. Makes sense. And you’re the one said we all needed to learn to shoot.” Daryl stood. “We should go now while we got most of the day. Everyone give Noah your address. Make a list of any supplies you think we need. We’ll leave in half an hour.” 

Daryl was surprised again at the way everyone did as he said. He’d been a survivor all his life and who knew that skillset would end up being more practical than being class president or captain of the football team. 

Daryl went into the tent he was sharing with Merle to fill a backpack with supplies.

“You need to be careful, Daryl. They’ll listen to you if you say it’s too dangerous. Don’t try to be a show off. I see how you look at that curly haired one. If it ain’t safe, you skip houses.”

Daryl glowered at Merle. His brother knew him better than he felt comfortable with. They’d never talked about Daryl’s orientation. But subtle comments like that showed that Merle had probably been aware of it for as long as Daryl had been.

“I’m not a moron, Merle. Ain’t gonna get myself killed.”

“Good. Don’t,” Merle said in a voice that was thick with emotion. It was a tone Dixon’s didn’t often use. Daryl looked at him and they shared a silence. 

“We’ll be back well before dark. Promise.”

Merle nodded and when Daryl stood to leave the tent, his brother hugged him tight. It was the first time anyone had ever hugged him like that. He felt the potential for tears but fought them off. He didn’t have time for things that weren’t necessary to live. He walked out as Noah was starting to climb into the driver’s seat of the truck. 

“You got a gun? Knife?” Daryl asked.

Noah nodded. “Rick does too. And a few extra boxes of bullets under the seat. Got all the addresses. We’re ready to move.”

Rick climbed in and sat in the middle seat of the truck and Daryl got in last. Merle came up to the window and lowered his voice so only the guys in the truck could hear him.

“If it seems too risky, come back. There’s a lake near here and plenty of hunting. We can fend for ourselves up here a while without needing anything from civilization. If you can’t get to all the houses,” he glanced back to the ones who were staying behind. “I recommend you pretend you checked when you get back so everyone has a sense of closure.”

“I agree, Merle. We will,” Rick responded, surprisingly unfazed at Merle’s gruff demeanor. They took off and started the slow descent back down the mountain.

“You’re brother is a good guy,” Rick said.

Daryl laughed. “No he ain’t. He’s an asshole.”

Rick smiled. “He means well. You can tell. Worried about you.”

“I’m a little scared of him to be honest,” Noah said.

“Well, he saved our asses. Be dead if it weren’t for him,” Rick tried to reason.

Rick was holding open an old map from Merle’s glove box and looking at the list of addresses. “Maggie’s on a farm outside of town. We can check on her place first. Said her old man didn’t approve of guns, but he’s a vet so we may be able to get our hands on some medical supplies.”

They were about a mile from the Greene farm when the smell became overbearing. Death. Rot. Burned remains. The unmistakeable smell of the end of the world they knew.

Rick pointed out a window at a man in a suit shuffling through a field. “We should help him.”

Noah stopped the truck and they all watched him intently. He shuffled and turned towards the sound of the engine in the pick-up. Daryl could tell he had those cloudy, unfocused eyes even from a distance. His arms hung by his sides and on closer inspection, several entrails were spilling out of his untucked shirt.

“He’s one of the dead ones,” Daryl said. 

Noah looked at his gun. “Should we… like try for the head like Carol said? Put him down?”

Rick looked to Daryl for his response and once again Daryl was baffled by the trust these people seemed to innately put in his instincts and opinions. 

“He’s coming towards something. Either our smell or the noise. If it’s the noise, a gunshot could draw others,” Daryl said as he thought it through.

“Good point,” Rick said. They all kept their eyes on the walking dead man.

There was still smoke in the air from some smoldering fires but the sound on the outskirts of town was eerily quiet. 

“Maybe now’s the time to test Carol’s theory. Only one of ‘em. I could put a blade in it’s head and we could wait and make sure it stays down,” Daryl said as he looked around them. “Nothin’ else nearby.”

“What if it bites you?” Noah asked worriedly.

“Three of us, only one of it. We can take it,” Rick said confidently. “Let’s surround it and take turns making noise. See if that’s what draws it. Like a science experiment.”

“Mr. Mamut would be proud,” Daryl joked and Rick gave him one of those giant smiles. “Everyone take your knife. I’ll have the gun for emergencies but we should try to avoid that. Even if it’s not noise that draws it, bullets are in limited supply.”

“You really know what you’re doing,” Rick said with admiration. 

Daryl frowned. “I don’t know shit, Rick. None of us do. Just used to… tough situations, I guess.”

Noah got out first and Rick followed Daryl out the passenger side as the walker got closer.

They spread out quietly in three different directions. Daryl took notice that the walking corpse didn’t seem to register sight. 

“Hey asshole,” Daryl said quietly and the dead one turned to him and stumbled forward.

“So it’s noise then?” Rick asked, as the dead man turned and started stumbling towards Rick, reeking of rot, the slick entrails oozing further out of the gaping cavity in the dead man’s gullet by the twisting movements in his change of direction.

“Don’t mean it’s not smell too, but he ain’t looking with those eyes,” Noah added and the walker made another shift in his movements and stumbled towards Noah.

Daryl walked up slowly behind it. He’d never killed anyone before. Only rabbits and deer, but not a man. This man was already dead though and Daryl found that he had to remind himself of it over and over. He was afraid. Pressing the knife into this being’s brain would be the beginning of a new reality and he felt like he’d remember this moment for as long as he’d be around to survive this new world. The walker closed in on Noah and finally Rick spoke again to buy Daryl more time to get ready.

“Over here, man. We’ll put you out of your misery.” Rick… always looking to do good even to the dead and gone. Daryl couldn’t bear the thought of this walking disease getting anywhere near Rick Grimes so his hesitation passed and he walked up behind the man, grabbed the back of his jacket and shoved his long knife up through the base of his skull. He fell like a log and Daryl backed up to avoid being crushed. 

The three boys surrounded the now twice-dead businessman and watched silently for a while.

“Not too close,” Rick said. “In case he comes back.”

“I kinda think Carol was right. The brain. That puts them down for good,” Noah added. 

Daryl sat numbly with human blood on his knife. This would not be the last one he’d have to put down. This was the beginning of a new world. A new normal that he wasn’t sure he was really ready for. 

“You ok, Daryl?” Rick asked. His voices was so genuine and caring. That had always been a thing about Rick Grimes. He said what he meant. He was sincere. There was never anything fake about him and Daryl had always admired that. For someone to have as many friends as Rick did at school and not to have to be fake to get them was something to admire. Rick just had a quality about him that drew people in. It certainly drew Daryl in. And as much as he hated to admit it, he needed that sympathy and that sincere concern at the moment. He nodded wordless in reply. 

“What was it like?” Rick prodded.

“Unpleasant. But necessary. Ain’t gonna be the last. Gonna be a part of life now, I think.”

The three boys stood and looked over the rise to the city in the distance. They saw lots of movements from bodies but none of them were moving urgently. They were all that slow shuffling walk.

Daryl was the first to speak frankly. “There’s a shitload of them in town. Glenn lives on the corner of Main. I don’t know if we can…”

Rick shook his head. “We don’t risk our lives here. Let’s see how the farm looks. It’s away from the population and we could probably use the preserves she told us about, any food and water and the medical supplies.”

Daryl nodded. They climbed back in the truck and Noah moved it slowly towards the Greene property. Rick looked over to Daryl. The hunter’s face was ashen and dazed. Rick put a hand on his knee. “It’s ok to be upset.”

“Ain’t upset,” Daryl responded even though he was. Didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t handle all this. He’d grown to like the way the boy looked to him like Daryl knew what to do next. Like Daryl’s input and opinions were important. “They ain’t alive. It’s a mercy killing to put ‘em down. We need to just think about it like that.”

“You’re brave, Daryl,” Rick said as he cocked his head to get a closer look at the boy next to him.

Daryl blushed. “You too. Didn’t have to volunteer to come down here. Or offer to take first watch last night. Or try to help all those kids on the truck. Shouting for everyone in the school to follow us. Your old man would be proud, Rick.”

Rick smiled with the glisten of tears in his eyes. “Thank you for saying that. I wouldn’t be who I am without him. He’s always gonna be with me, y’know?” Rick said as he touched a hand to his heart. 

Daryl nodded and patted him on the knee. Daryl was never much of a toucher, but this was a new world. Everything was different. Everything could be started new again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been great getting everyone's comments! I'm thrilled that so many people are enjoying this one!


	4. The Light From The Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has the Stylepoints seal of approval! (Seriously- do you know how many times she pours over each chapter!? She is amazing!)
> 
> And a giant kudos to AbyssWalker who recognized in just three days that my chapter titles are all quotes from Genesis! (Imagine my Internet history's surprise when I started googling the bible! After all the murder, mayhem and smut related internet searches I've done in the past for my fan fiction... and all of a sudden I'm searching for the bible! Google was like "What? Really?" LOL!)

As they continued to creep slowly towards the Greene Farm, they kept quiet and watched their surroundings carefully. 

“There,” Rick pointed, as a mailbox came into view at the end of a long dirt driveway. Daryl looked around, nervous about being too far off the main road if they got overwhelmed and had to make a run for it. But they’d only seen a few rogue walkers on the drive from the businessman they left dead in the field to where they now were. 

Noah must have been thinking ahead as well. When he pulled up to the old farm house he turned the vehicle around so it was facing out in case they needed to make a fast escape.

“This must have been a nice place to live,” Daryl said as he looked around at the pond, the fields, the barn and the large old farmhouse. 

They stood facing the home. “Think anyone’s inside?” Rick asked.

“Think we always gotta be prepared that the dead could be anywhere. And the living. I mean, that’s what we’re here for. Hoping to find Maggie’s Dad and sister, right?” Daryl answered.

“Should we like… ring the doorbell?” Noah asked. 

“The end of the world hasn’t been around long enough for us to know what’s proper manners,” Rick said with a slight laugh.

“Ain’t the end of the world. Just… the start of a new one. Gotta think of it like that cause we’re still here livin’” Daryl said. It earned him another one of Rick’s smiles.

“I say we ring the doorbell,” Noah said. “If anyone’s alive they’ll come. If not, it will draw any walkers to the door and we can go in through the back and sneak up on ‘em.”

Rick and Daryl looked at each other and then back at Noah. “You’re smart, man,” Rick said.

Noah looked at them deadpan. “Well, I’m a junior.” He walked ahead of the two sophomores and rang the doorbell then backed up to stand all together while they waited. They stood quiet and nervous for a good five minutes, then suddenly heard the clunk of a body at the door. Rick looked over at Daryl then to Noah. “Just one you think?” He asked neither of them in particular.

Daryl walked closer to the door. “Think so. Noah. You wanna stay here? Ring the doorbell again in about five minutes. Rick and I will find a way in around the back. If you hear us breaking a window or anything, keep ringing the bell.”

Noah nodded and Rick followed Daryl as they quietly walked around to the back of the house. Both of them had their knives drawn. They found a screen door that led into a kitchen. Daryl cut the screen quietly and reached in to flip the lock. He looked back at Rick. “We’ll open it as soon as we hear the doorbell,” he whispered. 

Rick nodded in agreement. “I know Maggie’s little sister,” he said softly. “Her name is Beth.” Just the sentence and the look in Rick’s eyes conveyed a much larger conversation. If the walker inside was Beth Greene, it would be much harder for Rick to kill it or even watch it be killed. Daryl shivered at the way he’d already started thinking of these people as “it”.

“I'll kill this one. Just need you to back me up if anything goes sideways, y’know?”

“Thank you, Daryl,” Rick said quietly. It wasn't the time to dwell on it too much, but Daryl couldn't help but realize how nice it was to hear Rick saying his name so softly. Reverently almost.

The doorbell rang. Daryl opened the door as quietly as he could and both boys slipped into the house. Rick was careful to close the door as silently as possible. They walked to the sound of the body bumping at the front door. Heard moans that definitely sounded like a female. 

When they walked into the front room, they saw her. Long blond hair, jeans and a frilly white shirt. Blood dripped from both wrists. Daryl walked up quietly but a floorboard squeaked and the once-Beth turned around. Her cloudy eyes were empty and Daryl could now clearly see the slits on her wrists. They told her story. She walked to him and Daryl readied himself. He'd stabbed the businessman from behind. This was different. This was a kid. Face to face. And one that Rick had known. This was Maggie's kid sister. 

She got closer quicker than Daryl had anticipated.

“Over here, Bethy,” Rick said. Daryl could tell by his voice that the boy had tears in his eyes. When she turned to follow the sound, Daryl grabbed her hair and knifed her through the temple. She fell surprisingly graceful and instead of backing up like he had with the business man, Daryl caught her and gently laid her on the ground. 

Rick went to the front door, opened it and waved Noah in. They all knelt by Beth.

“We’ll tell her we found her dead. Bullet to the head. That's all. We don't mention the wrists. She don't need to know that,” Daryl said. 

Rick and Noah both nodded silently. 

“You think anyone’s left alive at all?” Noah asked. No one answered.

Once they were all certain Beth was gone and not coming back, they stood. “Let's get as much food and medical supplies as we can and load up,” Rick said, his voice now strong again. Focused. “We’re gonna be in those mountains for a long, long time.”

“Guys?” Noah said before they headed to the kitchen. “She ain't even bit. Just died. And she still turned.”

They stood quietly looking at one another absorbing what that meant.

“That's good for us to know,” Rick simply said.

The kitchen was well stocked. Plenty of canned food, preserves. Daryl was looking for Mr. Greene’s office to find the medical supplies when the power flickered and went out. He walked back to the kitchen where the others were stocking up boxes.

“Guess that's the last artificial light we’ll ever see,” Daryl said.

“Don't be a pessimist. We can come back from this,” Rick said. “We can’t be the only people that got away.” 

Daryl shrugged in response and opened the freezer. “Mint Chocolate Chip’s gonna go to waste.”

“My favorite,” Rick and Noah said at the same time.

“Mine, too,” Daryl smiled. “Let’s take a break.” He got the tub out and Noah scrounged for three spoons. They sat around the table eating mint chocolate chip ice cream lost in their own thoughts.

“We already decided we can’t check Glenn’s place. Too dangerous. Can’t check Shane’s either. He’s in town, too,” Rick said.

“He gonna be pissed?” Daryl asked with a mouthful of ice cream. He knew Glenn was a fairly mellow type of guy but Shane had always seemed alpha male. Except when he was grieving Abe.

“Has a lot of testosterone in him,” Rick answered. “Football player y’know. But he’s not a bad guy. He’ll understand.”

“You don't think anyone's a bad guy.” Daryl smiled.

“Well, I didn't care for that business man back there.” 

Daryl and Noah laughed. Rick took a final scoop of ice cream and put his spoon down. “Don’t need to check my place. I know what happened. My Dad only had the one gun he kept at home. The rest were at the station, so not worth the risk.”

“Didn’t have any food or supplies at my house _before_ the dead got up and started walkin’ around. Sure ain’t gonna be anything worth goin’ after there now,” Daryl added.

“I’m just on the edge of town. And Carol is only a few roads from me. Could check those two then maybe loop back up past Dale’s?” Noah suggested. 

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. We’ll try for that. Let’s load up what we can here.”

After they had all the medical supplies and food they could find, they climbed back in the truck and made their way towards Noah’s house. After what they found at the Greene’s, Daryl was nervous about what they might walk in on. But Rick was right. There _had_ to be others. It couldn’t just be them. 

They passed several small groups of walkers, shuffling together in packs of three or four and Daryl made a mental note that they might be easily dispensable one at a time, but the real danger was numbers. If it got much thicker with them they’d have to turn around. He watched as the dead stumbled after the sound of the truck but Noah kept it going fast enough to lose them.

“My street. I’m the blue house on the end,” Noah said, his voice already shaky. Daryl looked at each house they drove past and noticed the bullet holes. The men from the CDC had definitely been in force in this part of town and it certainly lessened the chances of having any luck finding anyone else alive. They got out and took extra care to shut the truck doors quietly. Funny how quickly new habits could be formed. 

Rick and Daryl hung back and followed Noah to his front door. Several windows were blown out from the gunfire. They stood quietly waiting until Noah made the next move. Finally he turned back. “Same as last time? Ring the bell?”

Rick looked to Daryl for confirmation and then nodded. Noah rang the bell. They waited. Rick nudged Daryl and pointed down the street at a lone kid in pajamas shuffling the walk of the dead. Daryl nodded. After another shot at the doorbell, Noah twisted open the door knob and walked in, Rick and Daryl behind him. 

“Mom? Nate?” he yelled. Daryl wondered for a moment if it would have been better to find them here dead or turned. At least then you’d know. But the house was empty of both living and dead. They were all quiet while they pilfered what they could from Noah’s house. Several times, Rick put an arm on Noah’s shoulder and whispered soft apologies as if it were all Rick’s fault the world went to hell and the fate of Noah’s family would never be found. The lone twin just nodded, still numb at his loss. The empty expression on his face made Daryl realize how dangerous hope could sometimes be. If you expect the worst, you’ll never be disappointed.

“We got a lot of supplies and food,” Daryl said after they were back outside loading the truck. “I think we should just head back.”

“Carol’s house is just down the next road. Let’s at least try there for her,” Rick pleaded. Daryl looked down the road. The little walker was closer now. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. They could get in the truck and just go check Carol’s. Or Daryl could go put the kid down. He knew Rick would want her put down. Wouldn’t want to leave her like this. So Daryl walked with purpose to meet up to her and pressed the knife in through an eye. It was the third walker he’d put down. It wasn’t getting any easier. Her small body fell and Daryl walked back to the truck. “Let’s try for Carol’s.”

As they drove, Rick cocked his head and looked at Daryl. “Thank you for putting her down.” Daryl just nodded and kept his face forward. His eyes were aching from the urge to cry but Dixon’s didn’t cry. He wasn’t gonna start now or he’d never stop. 

Noah finally pulled into a trailer park and stopped in front of the one that must have belonged to the Peltier’s. “Who’s she have here?” Rick asked.

“A mom and dad. Don’t think she’s overly worried ‘bout the dad to be honest,” Daryl answered. Noah was still crestfallen and quiet. He looked back to them once they reached the porch. “Same plan?”

Daryl and Rick both nodded at the same time. Noah rang the doorbell. 

The shotgun blast took them all by surprise. A hole exploded through the front door right in front of Daryl’s eyes. Noah was blown back two feet and knocked to the ground. Rick ran to him trying to put pressure on the gaping bullet wound in his chest.

“Ain’t nothin’ here to loot, mother fuckers. Get lost!” a booming voice from inside said. 

Noah stopped breathing as Rick and Daryl knelt on either side of him and Daryl remembered what the boy had noticed. It didn’t need to be a bite. You still came back. He pressed his knife through Noah’s temple. “I’m sorry, Noah,” he whispered as he did it.

“Sir, we have your daughter. She’s safe. We’re up-” Rick started trying to reason with the patriarch of the Peltier family but Daryl shook his head and whispered.

“This isn’t a good man. We need to get gone.”

“Countin’ to ten and you punks best be off my porch. It’s every man for himself these days! One… Two… Ten.” The door swung open and a burly man in a wife beater and sweatpants came out, gun aimed on Daryl. Daryl raised his hands. “We’re leaving, Sir. We’re sorry. We don’t mean no trouble.”

“Can’t trust you won’t try comin’ back. Sorry.” He cocked the gun and Rick rushed him, crashing into the man until they fell backwards. Daryl fumbled for his gun but by the time he got to Rick and Mr. Peltier, Rick had pulled his knife and sunk it into the man’s head. 

“Jesus Christ,” Daryl whispered. 

“He… he… he was going to kill you. Us. I had to. I had to…” Rick was hyperventilating. His eyes were swollen and red and wet. “Jesus. I just… he wasn’t a dead one. I just killed a man. Jesus Christ, Daryl.” Rick fell to his knees and rocked back and forth sobbing. 

Daryl knelt by him and put a hand softly against his back. “He killed Noah. He was gonna kill us. It was us or him, Rick. You did the right thing. You were brave. You saved my life.”

“Carol’s gonna-”

“Carol ain’t gonna know nothin’,” Daryl said as he petted at Rick’s curls trying his best to console the boy. 

Rick looked at Noah’s body and then at the truck. “How are we gonna explain-”

“We’re gonna say it’s too dangerous to come back down. We got a freshwater lake and plenty of hunting where we are. We’ll be fine. Let’s just get back.”

“Should we check the house? See if Carol’s mom is still in there?” Rick asked as he wiped tears out of his eyes and got his breathing back under control. 

Daryl couldn’t deny him that even though he personally wanted to get in the truck and get the hell out of town. He nodded. “Yeah, let’s take a quick look.”

Daryl led the way inside and they checked each room, finally finding a body with a gut shot and a head shot in the master bedroom. Most likely Carol’s mother taking the last bit of abuse from her husband. They took a moment to pilfer through cabinets but didn’t find a lot. It was eerily similar to Daryl’s own home, more alcohol than food and the food that was there was stale or just plain junk. They grabbed a few unopened jars of pickles from the pantry, a few liters of Pepsi and a half empty box of Pop Tarts and left the house wordlessly.

After they tucked away their few scavenged items in the back, Rick turned to Daryl. “I don’t have my license yet. Do you?”

Daryl smiled. “Don’t think that’s really a requirement anymore. It’s Merle’s truck. I can drive it.” As they opened the doors and climbed in, they noticed about half a dozen walkers coming down the street drawn by the gunfire. “We need to haul ass,” Daryl said. “Put on your seatbelt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in memoriam- Noah. I think some of you knew he was a goner because it was such a random character I added to the mix. But it was fun to see him for a bit in fan fiction. I will give you all a little teaser-- I have some other folks that will eventually make an appearance that aren't often (or maybe at all) ever written in fan fiction. Hope everyone is enjoying the ride!


	5. Lights In The Vault Of The Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the one and only Stylepoints.

The ride out of town was quiet. Merle’s truck was an automatic, thankfully, so Daryl was comfortable driving it. They drove past a few clumps of walkers that heard the truck and walked towards it bumping off the sides, bloody hand prints being left along the windows. Daryl kept checking on Rick out of the corner of his eye. The boy had calmed down and was just watching the road ahead as they drove. 

Once they left the outskirts of town and hit the rural road towards Dale’s, Daryl was able to pick up some speed. 

“We should see if the pumps at that gas station on Old Senoia Road are still working. Fill it up while we can,” Rick suggested out of the blue.

“Good idea. Probably on a different power grid. Might still be working.” Daryl bit at a nail. “What exactly are we going to tell everyone when we show back up without Noah?” He asked, trying to engage Rick’s leadership qualities, trying to bring him back from that sorrow. Rick’s eyes reddened and teary were absolutely tragic to see. Daryl wanted to avoid that again as much as he could. Hell, it was going to be part of his survival plan to make sure Rick stayed strong with him and stayed as upbeat as possible. He needed that smile of his. Too much had disappeared from the earth overnight and he didn’t want that smile to be one of those things.

“We tell everyone he died protecting us,” Rick said. “Skip the part about it being Carol’s Dad like you said but let people know that the walkers aren’t the only danger.”

“Okay. That sounds like a good plan,” Daryl answered as the gas station came into view. He slowed the truck and pulled up to one of the pumps. The lights were still on. 

“Don’t see any around,” Rick said as he opened the door. He looked at the pump. “Never actually used one of these before,” Rick said as he looked blankly at the screen. 

Daryl walked around to it. “I’ve filled it up for Merle before. You don’t happen to have a credit card on you, do you? Usually Merle uses cash and they do something inside, but-” and Daryl pointed to the windows of the station. Six or Eight walkers were pressing against the glass windows, stirred up from the noise of the truck pulling in.

Rick pulled out his wallet, took out a card and handed it to Daryl. “Guess I don’t really need this wallet anymore. Cash, receipts, my student ID. Nothing worth shit.”

“Well, this credit card is helping for now,” Daryl said as he slid it through the reader and put the pump into the tank. He squeezed and they listened to the gas filling up as they kept an eye on the walkers inside. There were bullet holes in the window. And seeing that out this far made Daryl’s heart sink about the prospect of finding Dale alive. 

Suddenly the pressure from all the bodies pressing against the windows inside the gas station made the glass shatter and they started shuffling out towards the dinging pump.

“Fuck. That’s enough,” Daryl said as he pulled out the pump and twisted the cap back on. “Let’s roll.” They climbed in and sped off with the walkers slowly trudging after them and then finally disappearing as Daryl sped up.

They were only a few miles from the Camping Supply Store and Daryl was dreading what they might find… or not find. 

“I don’t think we should do the doorbell thing when we get to Dale’s,” Rick said flatly. Daryl looked at him and they both laughed, nervous, inappropriate laughter but in a world that had become so bleak so quickly you couldn’t help your reactions.

“Agreed. We’ll stay in the trunk and honk,” Daryl suggested. He saw Rick nod in agreement out of the corner of his eye. When they pulled up to Dale’s they looked at each other, quietly expressing hope and doubt at the same time. Then Daryl rolled down the window and sat out on the edge of it, his feet resting on the driver’s seat. He swatted at the horn. 

“Hey, Dale. You here, man?”

Nothing happened. Then suddenly the door to the shop opened slowly and two blondes walked out cautiously. Daryl recognized them. Dale’s nieces, Andrea and Amy.

Rick and Daryl both scrambled out of the truck instantly and walked over to them. Amy still had tear stains down her pale cheeks but Andrea’s body language was fierce and strong. Daryl had never talked to them much but they’d come and gone when he was at the shop with Merle. 

“Dale?” Daryl asked and Andrea shook her head no while Amy started to weep again. Rick put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her. 

“Merle?” Andrea asked. 

“Yeah. He’s with a few more of us up in the mountains. Your uncle wanted you guys to come with us. He was gonna-” Daryl just stopped talking. Part of him wanted to ask about Dale’s exact fate and part of him didn’t want to know anything further. He looked to Rick hoping he'd take over talking.

“I’m Rick,” he said as he reached out a hand to Andrea.

“Andrea and Amy,” she said, looking back in the direction that the boys had come from. “You were in town?”

“Yeah,” Daryl answered and Rick added “You can’t go back there. It’s not safe. You should come with us.”

Amy looked to Andrea for the decision and the older of the two girls scanned the horizon and nodded. She cocked her head to invite the boys in. “Got some supplies we should bring.”

Both girls started packing up their things as soon as they walked in. They had slept on the floor of the shop and started rolling up their sleeping bags. Daryl looked on the wall behind the counter at a brand new crossbow that they hadn’t thought to grab on their first visit. He'd just been getting good with his at home and a silent weapon could be useful. He took it off the wall and grabbed every bolt Dale had in the store.

Daryl looked up and noticed Rick watching him. “You know how to use that?” he asked with that smile.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, feeling prouder than he should have.

“That’s really cool, man.” Rick kept his eyes on Daryl longer than Daryl was used to having eyes on him and his face felt warm at the scrutiny. Finally Rick turned and started helping Andrea box up some things.

“Uncle Dale had me...stop at a place we know… to get silencers. He’d been worried the dead were triggered by noise. Based on our trip out here yesterday, I think he’s right.”

“How did you guys avoid the military?” Rick asked as he helped Amy fill her backpack. 

“I’m on break from college. Amy was playing hookie to spend the day with me, “ Andrea grinned. “We live off the beaten path. Daddy and Uncle Dale were… I dunno, I guess what you’d call preppers.”

Rick gave her a knowing grin. “So the place you stopped at for the silencers? Was it your basement?”

Andrea gave him a smug smile. “Yeah. Don't tell the cops.”

“Is your place safe then? If it was set up by a prepper?” Daryl thought it was an innocent enough question but Amy burst into tears, Rick putting an arm around her to console her again. 

Andrea tensed up, but she answered. “We’re not quite that far off the beaten path. The military was headed our way. Taking shots at our neighborhood and hit the gas tank we had set up by the house. Luckily Amy and me had already run out to get in the car. Daddy was right behind us.” She paused letting the silence tell the tale of his fate. “Whole place burned to the ground.”

“Fuck, man. I’m sorry,” Daryl said. He wasn’t as good with this kind of shit as Rick was. 

“‘S’ok.” Andrea answered and she pulled Amy close to her for a hug, the younger of the two girls clearly still rattled at the memory. “We’re gonna be ok, you hear me?” she said firmly and Amy quieted and nodded. “Let’s go then, huh?” 

Andrea climbed in next to Daryl and Amy next to Rick. As they made their way up the mountain, Rick handled the polite conversation.

“The world will come back,” Rick said confidently trying to break up the eerie silence. 

“Not ever like it was,” Amy said, dazed.

Daryl looked over at the group in his truck. A college chic, a sweet little blonde freshman and the guy he has a crush on. Two days ago Daryl would have had an easier time believing that the dead were up and walking than believing that he’d be making chit chat with a group like this.

“We started as cavemen once and got to where we are,” Rick countered. “We can come back from this.”

Daryl was happy to hear Rick sounding confident again. Sounding strong and at least attempting to flash that smile even though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Long as they are one at a time they ain’t that hard to beat,” Daryl added.

“Yeah,” Andrea piped in, “But they walk towards sound. Good chances for them to group up. A tree falls. A car backfires. A gunshot. An explosion. 

“Screams,” Amy added quietly.

Rick spoke after a moment of somber silence in the cab of the truck. “We’re up in the woods. Away from the rest of the population. We just need to stay away from them until…”

“Until when?” Amy asked. “How will it ever end? And what do we do while we wait?”

Daryl cringed at the sound of surrender in her voice. Were these some of Beth’s final thoughts? No hope? No way for it to end? No direction? “We hunt. We fish.” Daryl said.

“We take care of each other,” Rick added. “We figure out how to get the things we need to survive and we do that. We survive. Isn’t that what life has always been about anyway? Surviving to the next day?”

“Goals just have to change, Amy.” Andrea added. “No need for lawyers anymore so now I’m going to become the best damn fisherwoman there ever was. We can still have goals. And purpose. You hear me?”

It was clear from Andrea’s tone that she was already worried about the sounds of hopelessness that fell from her sister’s lips. Amy nodded and Rick nudged at her shoulder. “It’s going to be ok. Just different.”

When they finally got back to the campsite, the sun was starting to sink in the sky. Everyone stood and walked over to the old Ford, scanning the occupants. Daryl opened the door and Maggie immediately choked out Noah’s name in question. Daryl looked to Rick as Andrea and Amy climbed out. He simply shook his head no.

“Andrea.” Merle said. His voice was gravely and Daryl knew that Merle had already deducted that Dale was gone as well if his nieces were here and he wasn’t.

“Merle,” Andrea said affectionately and she hugged him.

“Is it too soon to remind you that you said you’d give me a chance when the world ended?” he asked with a little laugh way too quiet to sound like Merle usually did.

“It’s not ending. Just changing,” she answered, with a bit of flirtation in the tone of her voice.

“Everyone this is Amy and Andrea,” Rick said, always thinking about making everyone comfortable. He introduced the girls to Shane, Glenn, Carol and Maggie.

“We got some supplies,” Daryl said pointing over to the truck. Should get them into the cabin. Food. Medical supplies. Cagney and Lacy here brought more weapons and silencers.”

“Medical supplies?” Maggie asked. “From… from my house?”

Rick stepped in front of Daryl and put a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Maggie. They were already gone.”

“Gone like not there?” she asked, desperate for hope.

“I’m sorry. Gone like… like my Dad’s gone. Shot. I’m sorry. I’m sure it was fast. They probably didn’t even feel it,” Rick lied. 

Daryl patted Rick on the back in thanks as he walked past. 

“Carol, yours, too. I’m sorry,” Daryl added. “We couldn’t get to Shane or Glenn’s. But trust me… there’s nothing left in the town center. I’m sorry.” Glenn and Shane both nodded in understanding. 

“What happened to Noah?” Glenn asked. 

Daryl spoke up quickly. “He saved us. And y’know…” he couldn’t continue. He felt an unfamiliar catch in his throat. Dixon’s didn’t cry.

“It’s ok,” Glenn said. “I’m sure it’s not something you want to have to relive.”

Daryl nodded and went to the back of the truck to unload. “Starvin’. Let’s get a fuckin’ fire started. Ain’t gonna start itself,” he grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is enjoying the ride!


	6. The Light Was Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Stylepoints!

They ate canned beans and packets of tuna. Merle had hunted with Shane while Rick and Daryl were gone and there was enough squirrel for everyone but not everyone was quite desperate enough for it yet. Merle and Daryl ate it, of course. Shane did because he was proud that he had gotten one of them. (Apparently shooting practice had gone well.) Rick tried a bite of Daryl’s from his plate most likely because it was the polite thing to do and after resourcefulness, manners were a big thing for Boy Scouts. And Daryl was even more sure than ever that somewhere back in town in Rick Grime’s closet hung a damn Boy Scout uniform. 

After dinner, Shane offered to take first watch and asked Amy to join him. Daryl heard Rick whisper to the football player that “watch means watch” not “try to get into the freshman’s pants”. Daryl told them to get him for next shift and Rick quickly offered to be Daryl’s second on watch. 

Carol and Maggie went to bed. Andrea had set up a new tent for her and Amy to share but she was sitting on the outdoor chairs by Merle and Daryl’s tent talking quietly to the older Dixon. Glenn, Rick and Daryl sat around the fire. 

“What was it like down there? Did you get close to them? The dead ones?” Glenn asked. 

Daryl and Rick looked at each other. “Yeah. Had to handle a few,” Daryl answered without looking Glenn in the eye. They weren’t people, he had to remind himself. They were dead and gone already, Daryl was just making them deader. “It’s not pleasant.”

“And it smells,” Rick added, a clear attempt to alter the conversation a bit. “Whole town stinks to high heaven. Sulfur from the fire’s that were burning and … and just the smell of dead. Like when we’d get a mouse stuck behind the wall in the laundry room and it dies and the front room would reek like death for a week. Like that but times a million.”

Glenn made a face. “Didn’t even think about that,” he replied as he broke some small twigs and tossed them onto the fire. “You don’t think there’s any living left at all? I mean, you got Andrea and Amy, maybe-”

“We can’t go back down there,” Rick said. His voice was cold and foreign. Daryl had never heard it sound like that before and Glenn must not have either because he dropped it.

“You know,” Glenn said after a few minutes of quiet between them, “I’ve had a thing for Maggie… for like as long as I could remember, but this was not exactly what I had in mind for getting to know her better.” The three of them laughed, Daryl glad it was dark so his blush wouldn’t show. He’d thought the same of Rick.

“She seems to be stickin’ to your side,” Daryl said encouragingly. “I think you got a chance.” 

“Yeah, man?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, Rick nodding in agreement by his side. 

\----------------------------------

“Hey, wake up. We’re on duty.” 

Daryl had been in a deep sleep and it took him a minute to recognize Rick’s voice and realize that it was their turn on watch. “Shit, yeah. I’m comin’,” Daryl groaned. When he left the tent and Merle’s snores behind him, he could see that the moon was full and that would be a help walking out to the rock ledge. After he zipped the tent back up behind him, Rick handed him the crossbow, clearly still impressed with Daryl’s admission that he could use it, and they walked out to the edge of the woods overlooking town and the only road up there. Shane seemed to have cheered Amy up a bit and they walked back to the campsite, Daryl overhearing her soft giggle a few times before they were completely out of earshot. 

Rick looked over and rolled his eyes with a grin. “Saw that comin’,” he said.

“Thought you was gonna try for it.”

Rick laughed. “Nah, not really my type. Like… too young and stuff.” Rick paused awkwardly then added, “Merle looks happy that we brought back Andrea.” 

Daryl snorted a laugh. “Merle’s had a thing for her for years. Never had a chance.” He shrugged. “Lotta less options now. Guess maybe his odds just got better.”

Rick smiled at him and looked out over the moonlit town. “You think this is it, man? Just staying up here surviving and that’s… that’s just it?”

“What else do you think there should be?” Daryl asked.

“I dunno. Rebuilding. Connecting with other survivors-”

“After Carol’s dad? You wanna connect with other-”

“They can’t all be like that, Daryl,” Rick said passionately. His inner Boy Scout bubbling to the surface. “There’s got to be more groups like us. Just trying to survive.”

“So what if we found some? Then what?”

Rick was quiet a moment and they both watched the flash of a star fizzle above them and shoot in an arch down through the night sky. “Try to rebuild a community. Find a safe place to hunker down that’s not in the middle of the woods. Better shelter. We could try to plant a garden. The more people we find the more skills we have. People who could build walls. Doctors. What if one of us gets seriously injured? Maybe there’s scientists out there who can get together to start working on a cure?”

“Working on a cure for what? Death? Those people down there,” Daryl pointed out towards the town. “They’re dead. They might be walking and eating, but they’re dead. You know it and I know it.”

Rick was quiet again. He picked at a rip in his jeans. “You remember what Noah said, though. With Bethy. She wasn’t bit. Maybe we all have this virus that will make us turn into one of them when we die. No matter how we die. That’s what there needs to be a cure for.”

Daryl hadn’t let the thought of Beth turning unbitten back into his thoughts until that moment. He nodded. “Sometimes it’s just hard to know who to trust. How many out there are like us and how many out there are like Carol’s old man? People are scared. When you’re scared, you don’t think straight. I knew Amy and Andrea. They knew me. If that hadn’t been the case? And they saw two strangers...boys... pulling up to the shop in a beat up truck? They’d be scared and alone and wondering what we might do with two pretty girls and no law. Coulda shot us before we even saw them.”

Rick didn’t say anything and his silence indicated to Daryl that his comment made total sense. “This kind of world makes it every man for himself,” Daryl said softly.

“You aren’t operating like that. I’m not.”

Daryl sighed. “I’m not fighting ya on it, Rick. Just saying… we need to be cautious with the living.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah, I know. You’re right. I just don’t think we should give up on humanity.”

“You ever a Boy Scout, Rick?” Daryl asked with a grin.

“Yeah, why?”

Daryl chuckled. “Bet you had a crapton of badges.” 

“Are you picking on me?” Rick asked. If Daryl didn’t know better he’d think it was a little flirtatious. Not that he’d ever been flirted with, but he had TV. He’d been to school. He’d seen it done.

“Nah,” Daryl answered as his smile faded and his expression became sincere. “I admire you. You’re a good person. Never knew many good people. Y’know, in the old world.”

Rick laughed humorlessly. “The old world. You mean yesterday?” They were quiet again for a few minutes, nothing but the sound of night in the woods. “You never talked much in school. You don’t seem shy now. Why were you always so quiet?” Rick asked, genuine curiosity radiating off of him. 

Daryl looked at Rick and furrowed his brows at the question. “I don’t know. Didn’t have much to say? Usually didn’t like people in general? Just trying to get through without…” Daryl couldn’t quite figure out how to explain his feelings.

“Trying not to be noticed? Like how it probably was at home… with a ‘not good Dad’ to avoid?”

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Rick but before he could snap at the kid for making assumptions and nosing in on shit that wasn’t his business, the other boy continued. 

“You told me yesterday he wasn't a good guy. You didn't miss him. Seen your bruises before. See the way you pull away from people. All classic signs. I take Psychology 101. Took it, I mean. Wanted to be a cop to help kids like that. Had a best friend in first grade who’s dad beat him.”

Daryl didn’t respond. Dixon’s did not discuss stuff like that. And this was the damn kid he crushed on. Despite not having a chance with him, he didn’t want the kid to think he was a weakling that couldn’t defend himself. Daryl wanted him to feel protected, _especially_ with the world the way it was now. Wanted him to believe that Daryl was strong enough to take care of them all.

“I told my Dad about it,” Rick continued. “And they arrested his father. His mom testified because he’d beaten them both and Randall, that was my friend, never had bruises again. His dad went to prison and he and his mom were like...saved. I liked that feeling, of making something better.”

“Well,” Daryl said after a while. “There’s plenty of shit to make better now, I guess.” 

The rest of their watch was quiet and peaceful. Daryl tried not to spend too much time wondering how it was possible that Rick paid him enough attention to notice bruises and his aversion to unexpected touches. The quiet between them was similar to the way it was with he and Merle. There was invisible conversation there. Just a knowledge of feelings between them, a camaraderie. But there was a comfort and an emotion to it that Daryl didn’t even have with his own brother. He wasn't’ really sure exactly what it was, but it was a really nice feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this nice peaceful Rick and Daryl moment. More stuff and thangs to come!


	7. Mark Sacred Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stylepoints has officially Beta'd this whole darn thing! All 13 chapters!!

_Six weeks later_

“I’m just saying _if_ ”, Shane said. “IF we go down for a supply run. I mean… none of us are doctors and I don’t want to put Amy at risk.”

“Then don’t fuck her,” Daryl responded and Rick laughed. The three of them were coming back from a successful hunt. Daryl had gotten four squirrels and a small doe. Shane had gotten a wild turkey. And Rick had made entirely too much noise and missed every shot. For an ex-Boy Scout he was surprisingly inept at hunting. But in his defense, he could fish Daryl and Shane both under the table one-handed.

“It ain’t just me, man,” Shane responded. “She wants it, too. I’m just saying. If we’re ever near a place that might have condoms we should get some. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask for.”

Rick rolled his eyes and flashed Daryl a smile as if to explain that there have been lots of “last things Shane would ever ask for” over the years.

“Actually,” Daryl piped in, “Talking about the girls… this is ummm… not my favorite thing I’ve ever had to say and it was my least favorite conversation I’ve ever had in my entire life, but ummm… Carol mentioned that the girls would kill for some tampons.”

Shane groaned and Rick responded right away. “Oh man, I never thought about that!”

“Maybe we should try to make a run. Just try to stock up on some canned food. The hunting and fishing is good up here but we need more provisions. Maybe try to get some more Tylenol, Bandaids, stuff like that. The tampons, of course,” Daryl added quietly. 

“And condoms,” Shane added with a smile. “I’m with Daryl. We need to make a supply run.”

By the time they returned to camp, it was fairly well determined that they were going to do it. Daryl whispered to Carol as soon as they got back.

“Oh thank GOD!,” she said as she hugged him. 

“What? What’s going on!?” Maggie asked. 

“They’re going on a _supply_ run,” Carol answered and her inflection made it clear that feminine products were on the list. Maggie, Amy and Andrea all seemed to understand what it meant immediately. While Merle and Daryl started working on the deer and Shane worked on the squirrels, Rick looking on with a disgusted frown, Glenn started making a list as everyone shouted out needs and wants. 

They made two lists. One of things that they really needed. And one of things that would be nice to have. They decided over dinner that night to go in a group of four so that they could use the buddy system. And they wanted their strongest. Andrea and Glenn were quite bent out of shape when it was decided that Merle, Rick, Daryl and Shane would go.

“We need a couple strong ones back here to protect the camp,” Rick explained to Andrea.

“Don’t. Don’t try to handle me,” she seethed, almost in the exact same tone as Merle had said it so many weeks ago. 

The next morning as they were packing up to leave, Maggie slid over to Daryl. “Hey, ummm… could you… could you like… put condoms on the list?” she whispered. It was barely audible and if it weren’t for the blush on her face, Daryl might not have been able to make out what she was saying. Daryl raised a brow at her. “Ohhh! Lucky Glenn,” he said with a wink.

“Shut up,” she grinned. “Maybe it’s one of the others that wanted me to ask for them.”

“Was it?” Daryl asked grinning back at her. He’d grown quite fond of all these people and that was not a thing he was used to. Liking people. Trusting them. Wanting them around.

“No.” she said with a wink and walked away.

Four men squeezed into the front of the truck was unacceptable to Merle so Rick and Daryl rode in the back. Better that way anyway. They were armed from the back. Shane was armed in the front and Merle drove. The plan was to hit the small gas station that Rick and Daryl had filled up at back when it first started. The walkers that had been trapped inside had broken through the glass and were probably long gone. And it wasn’t near the center of town where they still watched streets filled with shuffling dead through the binoculars.

At one point they’d considered trying for an actual grocery store, but the chances of it being filled with an overpowering number of dead just made it too risky. Even as cocky as Shane and Merle were, the conversation was short. They knew they didn’t have any experience fighting them off. In six weeks, not a single walker had made it’s way into camp. And Rick and Daryl were just simply not interested in having to deal with any more of them than was absolutely necessary. They’d already had their fill on their first trip into town.

They pulled up to the gas station and it was abandoned like they left it. After Merle yelling “Got free candy for the dead out here!”, there was no movement, so they all walked in through the broken windows and stopped in their tracks at the sight. 

“Where is everything?” Shane asked, giving voice to the question they all had in their heads. Most of the shelves were empty. The glass that the cigarettes were kept behind was shattered and most of them were gone. Some empty food wrappers and empty water bottles littered the floor.

“Fuck,” Daryl said softly. “There's other survivors nearby and they had they same plan we did.”

Merle was walking up and down the aisles. “Ain't much here but we can grab what they left. Nowhere near what we were hoping for. Medical supplies are completely wiped out.”

“Left the condoms, though. And some girl stuff that shall not be named,” Shane added as he started filling his bag.

Rick stood with his hands on his hips, clearly deep in thought. He turned to Daryl who was picking up some HoHo’s that had been abandoned on the floor. “Can you track people like you track deer?,” he asked.

Everyone stopped in mid-scavenged. “What are you suggesting?” Daryl asked. “We find them and what? Invite them for dinner? Bring a group of desperate, what sounds like all men based on their lack of need for condoms and tampons, back to our group of young women?”

Rick sighed in defeat. “No, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“Well, I ain’t driving all the way down here without a better haul,” Merle said as he tore open a bag of Twizzlers and started gnawing on one. “Any ideas?”

Rick scratched at his curls and they all walked back outside the gas station. Shane tossed his bag of condoms and tampons in the truck. Daryl had scavenged a few items left behind in the snack aisle.

“Some of the houses on the outskirts of town?” Rick suggested.

“If this place was wiped out, they might have raided this whole section. We might want to drive around 16, up 85 to the other side of town,” Daryl suggested.

“You know what? I have an idea!” Rick said, excited. “There’s an ethnic market in that small plaza on the outskirts of 7th street-”

“Your idea is that we all eat spic and beaner food for the next six months?” Merle asked with his mouth full of Twizzlers.

“Well, not a lot of people know about it or even shop there. My Dad used to take me to the station sometimes and we’d drive past it. Always like a ghost town in the parking lot but one time we stopped in out of curiosity and there was a crapton of food. I bet no one who’s scavenging would think of it.”

“They’d all go for easy targets like this one on the edge of town or if they had enough numbers try to go in on the Costco or something,” Shane added.

“So I gotta live off canned enchiladas and fried rice?”

“You ate racoon innards last night, Merle,” Rick said. “I think you’d be up for the challenge.”

Daryl grinned at Rick sassing the older Dixon. “Yeah, bro. The rabbit might taste better with some spicy salsa. I think it’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”

Rick flashed Daryl that smile. “We can make squirrel tacos!” the once-boyscout cheerfully said to a scowling Merle whose brows were starting to lift in a bit of intrigue.

“See that?” Daryl said as they all climbed back in the truck. “The apocalypse is lookin’ better already.”

They pulled into First International Foods and the parking lot was as empty as Rick said it would be. They all got out of the vehicle and looked around. They were a little further into town than they’d yet attempted but they only passed a few groups of two and three walkers on their way in. Merle had backed the truck up to the front door of the grocery store and grabbed a tire iron out from under the front seat. Daryl had his crossbow up and ready and Rick and Shane both held weapons that Andrea affixed with silencers.

Merle whacked the crowbar into the glass window of the shop. “Any deadites in there? Got some hungry gringos out here that would like acquire some of your fine cuisine,” he shouted, loud enough to rile up any walkers inside, but quiet enough not to echo outside. He stepped in through the broken glass and the rest of the group followed, Daryl last after he took one final scan of the parking lot before he aimed his bow in the store. They could hear several walkers groaning from multiple directions. Merle dropped the crowbar and pulled his knife. 

“Spread out. Just take ‘em as they come,” Merle said, taking the lead like he was the only adult.

In the end there were seven. Daryl took two out with clean headshots from the crossbow. Rick shot two, headshots both times. He was much better aiming when the targets were slow and stupid. Shane took a few bullets to get his one kill, clearly nervous from facing one up close for the first time. And Merle took two out with his knife, none the worse for wear.

They looked up and down the aisles. “Well, I don’t think I know what half this shit is, but let’s clear it out. As much as we can. Olives are not our priority,” Merle said.

“Why not the olives?” Rick asked as he grabbed a shopping cart. 

“I hate olives,” Merle grumbled and he took his cart to the other end of the store. Daryl followed Rick and helped him load up his cart. In the condiment aisle he started taking cases of canned black olives and loading them in. Rick just stared at him. 

“Fuck him, man. I love olives,” 

“Me too,” Rick said with a smile. 

They filled the truck leaving just enough room for Shane and Rick in the back. When the four of them walked out with arms full of a few final items, they froze in their tracks.

“Fucking kids. Shoulda guessed. Who else would be this stupid not to have a lookout by the vehicle,” a man with a thick latino accent said. He was with three others and they all had weapons aimed at the boys.

“We can share,” Rick said without a hint of hesitation or fear. Christ, the kid screamed because a spider the other week, but he had no fear of people and that fascinated Daryl.

“We don’t share. Not in this world,” the man said. 

“Then you can have it all. Just let us be on our way. We don’t mean you any harm,” Daryl added, praying that Merle wouldn’t get mouthy and get them all killed.

“Guillermo, let’s just take the truck. It’s already loaded,” one of his men said. They weren’t all that old themselves. One seemed to be more like Daryl’s age. Daryl eyed them all up looking for any signs that might help if things devolved into a fight. Was anyone limping from a pre-existing injury? Anyone’s weapon held like they weren't all that familiar with it? The only thing he could see were some professional-looking stitches in the youngest guy’s right forearm. There could be a potential weakness there.

“Can’t risk you gringos comin’ for us. We got people to protect,” Guillermo said. He looked to his men like he was trying to decide what to do.

“This ain’t even our town, man. Just passing through. We’re as good as gone,” Daryl lied , his voice steady and strong. He took a small step in front of Rick.

“G, man-” the young one started.

“Shut up, Miguel. You say nothing. You hear me? You wanted to come out with us. The deal was you stay quiet.” Guillermo turned back towards Rick and Daryl. “Not just the dead doing the killing down here anymore,” he said, more of a warning than a threat.

“I know,” Rick said. “We’ve had that problem already before and we don’t want it again.”

“What happened?” Guillermo asked.

“Well. We’re still here and the problem is gone,” Rick answered confidently.

“We didn’t start it. We were defending ourselves,” Daryl added.

Guillermo nodded. “We’re taking the truck. Thanks for filling it up.” He tossed them the keys to an old, not-well-kept, El Camino and Merle caught them. “You can take our ride and get the hell out of town,” Guillermo instructed.

Daryl’s stomach sank. All the food they’d gotten. All the supplies. All the work and it was just being stripped from them. He knew the others must have felt that disappointment, too.

“Thank you for letting us go,” Rick said and he walked over confidently to the El Camino and got in the back. Daryl went next with Merle and Shane behind him. When they were all in the car, Merle started it and Daryl prayed once more that Merle wouldn’t fuck anything up with his mouth.

“Didn’t really want any of that spic food anyway, fellas. Did me a favor. Hasta lavista,” he said and then peeled out of the parking lot. Daryl watched in the rearview as Guillermo seemed to shake his head with a smile and his crew climbed into the truck his brother had owned for nearly ten years. But they walked away, all of them, with their lives. And really, that was the most important thing.

The ride back to camp from the other end of town was unfamiliar to Daryl, but they stumbled on another out-of-the-way gas station.

They cleared it of its three walkers quickly and, lesson learned, Merle and Daryl stayed outside on guard duty while Rick and Shane loaded everything up as quickly as they could. It wasn't as big of a haul as they'd originally had, but it was something. Bandages and Tylenol, lighters, flashlights and batteries. Dusty bags and cans of gas station groceries that probably already expired before the world even ended. Condoms and feminine products. The only thing they got “free” with the El Camino was a couple of sets of scrubs. But if you had to be optimistic, at least it was the kind of clothing that would fit most of them if anyone needed it. Most importantly, though, they were heading home with their lives. All in all, they had to be pleased.

Daryl looked up at the greying sky above them as they drove up the mountain. “Looks like a storm’s comin’” he said more to himself than to Merle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Complaints? 
> 
> Hope everyone is still enjoying!!


	8. Rain Upon the Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know- tampons! No one ever talks about it. That is a must on all runs! :-)
> 
> Beta'd by the one and only Stylepoints!

By the time they were back at the cabin and had their “new” El Camino unloaded, the heavens had completely opened up and rain poured down hard and steady like someone left a spigot on full blast. 

They all stayed in the small cabin together. Daryl and Rick had gone out and retrieved sleeping bags after the first roar of thunder cracked against the sky. They all decided it might be better just to stay together under real shelter rather than the thin nylon and canvas of the tents.

Merle was probably in heaven as Andrea hand picked the spot next to him on the floor to set up her sleeping bag. Amy set-up on the other side of her sister and eventually settled down with her head resting on Shane’s leg. Carol was sitting near Daryl, her arms around her knees. Maggie was sitting between Glenn's legs and resting her head back on his shoulder. And Rick spread his things out next to Daryl.

The once-Boy Scout was telling everyone how the entire day went and Daryl watched the group respond. Glenn held tighter to Maggie. Carol, despite being wrapped around herself, had a glimmer of strength in her eyes. Amy scooted closer to Shane as he stroked her hair and Andrea even gave Merle a sympathetic pat on the back at the part where his truck was taken. 

Merle took over the story at that point so he could embellish his sadness over that loss of the shitty Ford and garner more sympathy from Andrea. When he told of the three walkers they had to put down in that final gas station, it had somehow turned into a story about Merle taking them all single handedly. Andrea was rolling her eyes after Merle described having his knife stuck in one walker’s head and his foot on a second as he was popping the third in the eyes with two fingers, like Moe, to buy time. Even Merle was laughing at his obvious fiction by then.

Once it was dark-dark and not just storm-dark, they discussed the need for look outs. Merle and Glenn walked out to the ridge they'd been using and came back to report that the rain was so heavy you couldn't see a thing, so watch was now just going to be two at a time on the narrow front porch. Still couldn't see much through the downpour, but it felt necessary, especially after the hard lessons in town. They took shifts like usual, but the sounds of the wind, rain and thunder made it a restless night for everyone. The loud cracks of thunder ricocheted around the mountains. Every rumble and bang became three or four bangs echoing through the peaks and valleys.

By the next morning, the daylight only brought on a dim grey haze through the trees and the rain still fell loud and heavy all around them. That was probably why no one heard them coming. Probably why no one could _see_ them coming. Shane, Daryl and Amy were out on the porch a little before noon when they broke through the fog- walkers. Dozens of them. How they ended up so high into the mountains was anyone’s guess but Daryl thought maybe the sounds of thunder got them disoriented, chasing after sounds that would never be caught.

It was so thick with fog and rain they hadn’t even seen the hand come out from the grey air and pull Amy off her feet until she was already on the ground. Four walkers were on their knees over her screaming body clawing her apart before Daryl even realized what was happening. Shane started firing at the walkers that knelt over her as Daryl looked around to see them coming out of the fog from all angles. He raised his crossbow and shot one after another after another. He heard the door behind him open, heard more guns join the sound of Shane’s, more soft thwaping from the silencers. He heard Andrea crying and Rick trying to tell her to be as quiet as possible because they will follow the noise. 

Daryl ran off the porch to draw a few of the walkers away from the group as they all struggled to reload weapons behind him. He had no chance to look back at the other’s progress. No chance to check on Rick, to see who else may have been overtaken. He fired his last bolt into one of the dead that had an arm missing and then reached for the knife he always wore now on his belt. Two more were in front of him. He put the knife through one head as the other reached for his arm. When he tugged to dislodge his knife it was stuck. He had a moment of panic. A kind of impending fear he hadn’t felt since before his father died. He tugged at the knife harder and kicked at the other walker. Then he saw it’s head explode. The walker dropped and Carol, of all people, was on the other side of it with a pistol. He knew she had survival in her.

“Thank you,” Daryl said, out of breath as he finally yanked the knife from the skull of the walker that had fallen at his feet. The sounds of walker moans and rain had both tapered off to nothing. Rick came walking out into the mud, stepping over bodies to meet Carol and Daryl. 

“You guys ok? Anyone bit?” he asked nervously. Carol shook her head. 

“No m’fine. You?” Daryl asked and when Rick answered fine, Daryl could finally breathe again. 

Andrea was pulling bodies off of Amy with Shane and Glenn helping her. Merle looked more devastated than Daryl had ever seen him. He walked over and gave Daryl one of those rare Dixon hugs. When they broke apart, Merle looked to Carol and Rick.

“You guys ok?” he asked.

Daryl was stunned that Merle had asked the question or even cared. He was always a “Dixon brothers against the world” kind of guy, but he was apparently starting to see the value in others. Daryl was glad to see that because he also was finding that he needed these people. The loss of Amy weighed heavy on Daryl already as he walked to her body and knelt down by Andrea.

“Andrea. I’m so sorry,” Daryl started, “I...I didn’t see them coming. They came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry. This was on me. I’m… I’m so sorry. If it were Merle I’d be-”

“Well, it’s not Merle!” she snapped. Her face was tear-stained and her hands red with Amy’s blood. “She was all I had left,” Andrea sobbed and she held Amy’s hand tight in her own. 

Rick squatted down beside her as Merle put a hand on her shoulder. Shane was pacing angrily behind them. “You’re not alone,” Rick said quietly. “Tell us what you need. What can we do?”

Daryl let another moment pass, allowing Andrea some time to grieve but according to what they’d heard of this virus, being bit meant you’d get sick… quickly. And die. Then turn. It was already clear that Amy was dead based on the intestines that were pulled out of her by the walkers. And there was no telling how quickly she’d become one of them.

Daryl moved his hand so his knife was showing. “I can do it for you,” he offered. 

“No!” Andrea shouted. “No! She’s already ripped apart enough.”

“You know what we’ve talked about, Andrea. She’s been bitten. She’s going to come back. We don’t want you to have to see that,” Rick added. “Let Daryl put her down and we’ll take her and bury her. Put up a grave marker. We can have a proper funeral tomorrow.”

Rick had a steady way of talking to people, of getting them to listen and pay attention. She finally nodded as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks and Daryl gently pushed his knife through Amy’s temple at the same moment that her eyes opened with that cloudy, vacant stare. Rick quickly closed her eyelids. And Andrea turned away, allowing Merle to help her up. He brought her in the house with Maggie and Glenn behind them. 

Rick and Daryl were still squatted by the body and Shane finally walked over. His face was a wreck. Eyes puffy. Scratches on his cheek and neck from the fight. Blood from the walkers drenching his shirt. He was pale and sweaty.

“Shane. Brother. I’m so sorry, man. I’m so fucking sorry,” Rick said as he rose to comfort his friend. Shane pulled away.

“Too muddy to dig a grave right now,” he said wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “But we can go look for a spot.”

“We can look a little later, man.” Daryl said. Shane was right. It was too wet. They could cover Amy’s body and go out once the sun started to dry the earth a little bit.

“We need to look now,” Shane answered with conviction. He checked his pistol for bullets and must have been satisfied at what he saw. Then he walked out into the dim day expecting Rick and Daryl just to follow. They did, of course. Shane was grieving and he shouldn’t be alone. Hell, in this world, no one should be alone. Ever.

They got out past the rock ledge that they usually stood watch on and Shane spun around to them and much calmer than he’s ever sounded, simply said, “I got bit.”

“No.” Rick said firmly. Just a no, as if it was completely impossible. 

Shane lifted his shirt and a chunk had been ripped out of the side of his abdomen. It wasn't walker blood that drenched him. It was his own. No one spoke as two chipmunks chased one another right between the three of them.

“We know what happens. I already have the fever, the headache. I can feel it that quick. I can’t… I can’t do it myself. Rick. Help me,” he said and shoved the gun into Rick’s hand. 

“No,” Rick said again but this time it was a sob. Shane put a hand at the back of Rick’s neck and pulled him close. “I need you to do this for me, Rick. I don’t want to be one of them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask for.”

Rick sobbed harder at the familiar words as Shane turned to face away from them and got on his knees. “Please. Please,” Shane begged. 

Rick held the gun out in front of him, hands shaking and Daryl couldn’t let him do it. He stepped forward quietly and put a hand over Rick’s. He looked at Daryl with eyes that had lost all their light. Daryl took the gun, held it steady to the back of Shane’s head and pulled the trigger. After the soft thwap of the silencer and the thump of Shane’s body falling to the ground, Rick fell to his knees in the wet grass, tears spilling like rain. Daryl stood over him, a hand on his shoulder to show his support, and he let Rick cry as long as he needed to. When he was finally done, Daryl put a hand down to help him up and when Rick stood he looked to Daryl. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t live in this world. I can’t see people die like this. Lose people-”

“Rick,” Daryl interrupted calmly. “You _are_ living in this world. You’re surviving.”

“Bethy knew. She knew what was coming. I want to die-”

“You are stronger than that!” Daryl yelled, now angry at the prospect of being deserted, left behind. “Don't lose yourself, Rick. You are optimism and hope and good and I need that. I need you. I can’t do this alone. You're the one that always talks about people needing each other. I _need_ you.”

They looked at each other for a long time, leaves in the trees having private conversations all around them, raindrops dripping off branches to soft splashes in the mud. 

Rick looked down at Shane’s muddy, blood-covered body. “Thank you for taking the gun, Daryl,” he murmured.

Daryl nodded in reply even though Rick wasn’t looking at him. Words just felt too difficult to find and even harder to form.

Rick looked back up to Daryl with those sad, frightened eyes. “Maybe he’s with Amy?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Daryl answered as encouragingly as he could muster for someone who never believed in God before the end of the world and sure as shit didn’t believe in one now.

After a few more moments Rick finally took a deep breath. “Let’s go back. We have to tell the others.”

The reaction was heartbreaking. A fresh round of tears sprung from every set of eyes at the news and no one talked for most of the early afternoon. They just all sat around the kitchen floor where they’d slept. Andrea fully accepting Merle’s comfort, her head on his chest and his hand rubbing up and down her back, Carol holding one of her hands. Glenn and Maggie couldn’t have sat any closer if they tried. Rick and Daryl sat shoulder to shoulder like they had been most of the previous night. 

Rick’s stomach growling was the first noise any of them had made other than soft sobs for about an hour. Daryl snapped out of his daze. He’d been trying to count how many walkers he’d put down since all this started. He got up and rummaged in the kitchen and Glenn joined him. 

“Everything is too wet for a fire. We’ll have to eat cold tonight,” Daryl said. 

“Don't think any of us have the energy to start a fire anyways,” Glenn answered. 

Daryl lowered his voice, “Maggie doing okay?”

“Maggie?” Glenn whispered back. “Don't let her fool you. She's been the one holding _me_ together. Not the other way around.”

Daryl smiled at that. “You okay then?” He asked with less of a whisper. 

“Yeah. Hadn't been into town with you all yet. Those were my first. You were right what you said all that time ago. It _was_ unpleasant.” Glenn paused as he was using a hand-held can opener on the first of several cans of Chef Boyardee they’d found and he looked back over to Daryl. “Rick was right, too. They smell God-awful.”

He went back to opening the can and Daryl pulled out some spoons. “How is Rick doing?” Glenn asked in the same quiet “you would know best” tone that Daryl had used to ask about Maggie. He'd whispered it mostly just using his mouth to articulate, clearly hoping Daryl could mostly read the question on his lips.

“He's had better days I think. We all have,” Daryl answered quietly. 

“How we gonna… Keep this from happening again?” Glenn asked, speaking a little louder. “I mean- you think we should maybe look for another place to call home?”

Merle stood and walked over to grab one of the cans of Spaghettios. “Needs to be away from populated places. Walkers are bad enough but those Spics that stole my truck ain't somethin’ we wanna deal with either.”

“They could have killed us. Fact that they didn't should mean a little something,” Rick said. And after Carol’s Dad, Daryl was surprised Rick was still always defending the living.

Maggie spoke up next. “Would be nice if we could all stay under one roof instead of half of us in sleeping bags. It isn't safe for anyone to be out there with nothing between them and death but a thin layer of nylon.”

Daryl read into that- _‘it would be nice if Glenn and I could have a room to ourselves.’_

Carol hadn't added her two cents yet and Daryl looked to her waiting as they passed around the cans of cold dinner.

When Carol took one, she looked around the room. “You guys remember Jessie Anderson?” she asked. Daryl and Rick shared a look. She had died right in front of them. Daryl remember the shock and horror of it. He thought he'd never see something that awful again. He'd been wrong, of course.

“Yeah” Daryl said with a nod, Speaking for both of them.

“Well, she was kinda snobby but she'd talk to me in history sometimes. Mostly to brag. But she said her folks owned a Boarding Kennel. Y’know, for dogs?”

“You want us to stay in a kennel?” Merle asked. “Christ, woman. You don't say much, but when you do it's kinda nuts.”

“No, hear me out,” she responded in a very unexpectedly confident way.

“It's up off Monroe on a hill. The entire property is fenced. High fences to keep even the biggest dogs in. We could use it to keep the dead out.”

Everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

“Gives us high ground,” Daryl said with a raised brow.

Their house is behind the fences too, right next to the kennel. Big house, should be plenty of room,” Carol added. “Probably weren't a lot of people in there so shouldn't be hard to clear out the dead. And …. Wouldn't need to worry about looters or other living coming to scavenge. What would they think they could find in a kennel?”

“I like it,” Maggie said firmly.

“Me, too,” Glenn agreed.

“All right then,” Rick said. “How and when?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Amy and Shane :-(
> 
> I know- everyone is getting antsy for making out or something, right?? Wellllll.... May I suggest you come back tomorrow? :-)
> 
> !!!!!!


	9. Dry Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who Beta'd this? I you guessed Stylepoints, you'd be right!! :-)

The next day Merle and Andrea searched the pockets of the dead for supplies and moved them out of the way of the El Camino. Maggie, Carol and Glenn spent the morning packing everything up and Rick and Daryl had taken Amy out to where Shane lay waiting. Shane and Amy would be buried side-by-side near the rock ledge where they had spent so much time together on watch. 

The boys dug for hours. Daryl's muscles ached and his shaggy hair stuck sweaty and damp to his neck and forehead. Rick’s long curls had gotten even longer and even curlier in the past weeks. They worked together seamlessly, and without words, both of them shoveling out the heavy earth to open up an appropriate resting place for their friends.

After a long while, Rick finally broke the silence. “I've known him since kindergarten,” he said out of nowhere after dumping a shovelful of dirt on the growing pile beside him. “He knew me better than anyone else on this planet.” Rick’s voice was solid conviction and certainty and Daryl was surprised by it. He knew they were very close, but Rick had such a tight family. He’d told Daryl so much about them that Daryl was surprised it was Shane that held the title of knowing him best instead of Rick's own father.

Daryl tried to think of something soothing and comforting to say. That was more Rick's specialty, saying the right things when people needed to hear them.

“He was brave,” Daryl finally said after heaving up another heavy shovel full of the damp ground. “He didn't try to hide it from us... that he was bit. He saved our lives. If he'd have died and turned in the night?”

Rick was listening and leaning on his shovel, taking a moment to break from the hard, slow work.

“Yeah,” Rick replied, then continued to dig. “He…”

Daryl shoveled as he waited, but Rick never finished the sentence.

They were mostly quiet and reverent while they dug the side-by-side graves, pausing only to take occasional sips from a water bottle they'd brought with them. 

“I think this is deep enough,” Rick said after a while, leaning on the shovel again and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “You think?”

Daryl had no idea how deep was deep enough but he nodded confidently anyway. Without any more words, they picked up each body, Daryl at the head and Rick at the feet and lowered them as gently as they could in each hole. 

Rick stood quietly for a moment before he picked the shovel back up to refill the graves. Daryl followed Rick’s lead and they worked another long hour before Shane and Amy lay covered by fresh mounds of earth. The night before, Rick and Glenn had made two crosses to use as markers and Rick knelt down to plant both of them in the ground as Daryl watched.

Once they were in, Daryl reached down to give him a hand up and he saw that the boy’s eyes were red-rimmed and watery again. When he stood, he stumbled a bit and let himself fall against Daryl, his head against Daryl's collarbone. 

Rick stayed in that position, clearly in need of physical comfort, so Daryl put an arm around him and rubbed his back, a move Daryl very vaguely remembered from his mother. 

Daryl felt Rick’s hands rest gently on his hips, not quite a hug, more like a grasping for connection, a plea for Daryl not to pull away. And Daryl didn't want to pull away. He quite liked the feel of Rick’s forehead resting on him and Rick’s hands holding him so deliberately, so he just kept rubbing slow circles against Rick’s back with the palm of his hand. It wasn’t the first time he’d consoled the other boy in all this time.

Birds still chirped like nothing in their world had changed at all as the autumn breeze cooled the damp hair at the base of Daryl’s neck and gave him shivers. He listened for the gasps and hiccups of Rick's crying but there were no hesitated breaths that meant tears. Rick finally lifted his head off Daryl's shoulder and just looked at him. They were standing too close together, Rick’s hands still loose on Daryl’s hips. Daryl stopped rubbing at Rick's back, but left his hand there. He wasn't use to having someone this close, paying this much attention to him. Rick's glance dropped to Daryl's lips then back to his ocean blue eyes. And as Daryl stood there nervous from the closeness, heart pounding in his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, Rick leaned in, tilted his head and touched his lips gently against Daryl's.

It was completely unexpected and unexpectedly comfortable, Rick against him like that. Pressing close. Daryl had never been kissed, the memories of even his mother gently pressing lips to his forehead so lost they fizzled like a blown light bulb when Daryl tried to really recall them.

When Daryl didn't leap away, Rick held him tighter, pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. No tongue, but lips parted and slotting together. Daryl could feel his heart beating in his throat, in his toes, his chest so loud it would scare away game if they were hunting. But they weren't hunting, they were...kissing.

After a few moments of soft lips gently plucking against Daryl's rough chapped ones, Rick pulled back slightly. Just inches. Daryl could feel the ghost of Rick’s breath against his lips as Rick kept still, his eyes on the ground. He seemed to be waiting. Was Daryl supposed to say something? He was too nervous and confused to move much less form words. It took a moment, but he finally realized that Rick was giving him the chance to back away. He didn't want to back away, he wanted Rick's gentle mouth against his own again and the boy’s hands tighter around his waist. 

He wanted to explore this connection they had, wanted to show Rick with touches and closeness how he felt. Wanted to “talk” with his hands and his lips.

Finally, Daryl put the hand that still hung at his side around Rick so that both palms were against his back and he closed the space between them, clanking his teeth against Rick's in a nervous, rushed kiss. Rick laughed softly and guided them into another delicate moment of one mouth stealing words from the other. He heard Rick gasp and their lips made soft smacking sounds as they experimented with slow movements, timid tongues and tiny nibbles. Rick's hands gripped tighter to Daryl's waist as Daryl moved his slowly up Rick's back, fingers sliding into the other boy’s uncombed curls. And after time that felt as quick but as long as the last minutes of history class, they parted for breath.

Rick took a step back and smiled shyly. They said nothing for a few minutes, just looked at one another quietly. Rick's lips were kiss-swollen making them even pinker and sweeter than ever. His eyes had gone dark, like evening skies turning to an overcast midnight.

“He would be happy that I kissed you,” Rick said.

“Who would?” Daryl asked with a frown, completely confused. He felt lightheaded, like the kiss took oxygen from him that his heavy breaths hadn't recuperated from yet.

“Shane.”

“Shane would be happy that you k-kissed me?” Daryl asked, stuttering nervously over words. 

“Yeah,” Rick smiled and he turned to walk back towards the cabin. 

“Why?” Daryl felt rooted in place, like a tree planted in the ground.

“Because he knew I wanted to,” Rick answered looking back at him with another smile. And… Was he blushing?

Daryl finally remembered how to walk and he followed a few steps behind Rick, his mind a murmuration of memories from their first world. He thought about Rick in high school. Class president. One of the more popular kids. Everyone liked him. He was always surrounded by people but… but… Daryl thought hard. All the kids he walked down the hall with, there was never any hand holding. No making out by the lockers. And Daryl would have seen it- their lockers were close by one another. He never had a specfic girlfriend now that Daryl thought about it. Shane had. Daryl could picture three of them clearly without even trying that hard to remember. But Rick? He… Was he gay, too? All this time?

And… Daryl? He liked _Daryl_? He wanted to kiss _DARYL_? He thought about it more. All the times he and Rick took watch together or went hunting together or sat talking together. Why wasn’t Rick spending all his time with his best friend? Shane had been right here all this time. But… Amy. So Daryl had assumed Rick was giving him time with Amy. But was he-

“Merle will be, too,” Rick said out of nowhere as they walked and Daryl wondered if he’d been so lost in his own head that he missed some words.

“Merle will what?” he asked.

“He’ll be glad I kissed you.”

Daryl furrowed his brows. Why was he having so much trouble following a simple conversation? “What… Why do you think Merle would be glad about that?” Christ anyone that meets Merle knows in the first twenty seconds that he’s an asshole. Why would he care about who's kissing who? 

Rick looked back again with that flirty grin Daryl had never seen on him before. “Well, one time I was getting the fire going and I was looking at you working on a deer and he sat down beside me. Must have been watching me a while. He just looked over at me all serious and told me that you look at me the same way. Then got up and walked away.”

“Oh. Okay,” Daryl said because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He knew that Merle kinda had him figured out and still loved him anyway. But for it to be a real thing with a real person? He was surprised, pleasantly surprised, that Merle continued to be the loving and supportive brother he’d always been. Guess there was more to worry about in the world these days. Daryl’s hands were still shaking and he wondered how long that would go on for. Is that something that happens after a first kiss? Or after any kiss? Because shaky hands would be really inconvenient with having to kill walkers. And also- would there be another kiss? Does one kiss mean you can kiss again later? Did Rick _want_ to kiss again later? 

Rick slowed down a bit so that they were walking side-by-side. “Are you glad? That I kissed you?” he asked with a quiet voice.

Daryl smiled reflexively with his awkward half-grin and bit at a nail to hide it. “Yeah,” he answered nervously around his thumbnail. He met Rick’s eyes and he felt in his own cheeks how hard he was smiling. Dixon’s weren’t used to smiling. Frankly, it was starting to hurt. Rick reached over as they walked and grazed a few fingers against the hand that swung by Daryl’s side. Then he intertwined his fingers into Daryl’s. 

Daryl was holding hands with Rick Grimes. He just kissed Rick Grimes. He might kiss Rick Grimes again. He was pretty certain, now with the hand holding especially, that there would be more kissing. He tried not to bite on his nail anymore and he willed his hands to stop shaking and his heartbeat to go back to normal. 

When they walked into the clearing that surrounded the cabin, Daryl dropped Rick’s hand but not before Andrea looked over and saw. She still had damp, puffy eyes and a sadness that hurt like hell to see. But a small smile spread over her lips as the boys walked past to go inside. She put a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and whispered. “Amy would be happy for you. She loved love.”

Daryl decided not to think any more about kisses or love or hand holding or Rick Grimes’ new blushy, flirty smile. They had a funeral to deal with first, then a long, dangerous drive to town to face the unknown at the Anderson’s Kennel. He would file it all away for later. He would most definitely be thinking about it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg!!! KISSING!!!


	10. Not Ashamed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints as always for the beta!

The makeshift funeral was quick but incredibly sad. Maggie recited some bible verses she knew that fit the situation nicely. Rick said a few words about Shane and Andrea said a few about Amy. Daryl had noticed when Merle put a comforting hand on Andrea’s back as they returned to the cabin so he did the same to Rick. It must have been the right thing to do because Rick smiled at him and leaned into the touch. 

They had packed the El Camino with as much as they could, leaving room for four of them in the back. Merle drove with Andrea and Carol up front. Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie found open spots in the bed of the vehicle to hunker down for the long slow drive. They were all armed, ready, and hopeful. 

The drive down the mountain was uneventful. Getting into town was only held up a few times from too many walkers in the road, so they’d detour and go in from another direction. Finally they made it to the big hill on Monroe and saw the gates that surrounded the rather secluded boarding kennel. Carol was a genius. It looked perfect. Merle slowed the vehicle to a stop in the parking lot at the top of the hill and they all got out and walked over to the gates. They were held shut with a simple padlock. The staff must have just come out to let families dropping off or picking up into the facility. 

Daryl tugged at it. “Guess we’ll have to climb over,” he said looking back to the rest for any better ideas.

Maggie shrugged and started climbing the chain link. Everyone followed and once they were on the inside they regrouped. “Don’t think we’ll really need the kennel for anything but we should clear it too,” Glenn said and everyone nodded in agreement. “Start there or start with the house?” he asked.

“Let’s do the kennel first,” Merle suggested. “It’s smaller.” 

Rick nodded and walked ahead of everyone to the front door. He twisted the knob, found it was unlocked and nodded at everyone that it was showtime.

They filed in one-by-one but before any of them could give a shout to draw out any walkers, they all made faces at the smell. Decay like they've been used to… but also something else. Daryl tried to figure it out as they all looked at each other in question. Was it … Feces?

Carol looked over to Daryl with a hand over her nose and tears in her eyes from the smell. “It's awful,” she whispered.

“Anyone in here?” Maggie yelled, then gagged a bit and put a hand on Glenn’s arm as she leaned over and dry-heaved.

“Seriously,” Merle said exasperated. “Is that shit? That smells like fresh-”

Merle was interrupted by a noise in the back.

Glenn was standing closest to the swinging door that led from the office to the kennels. “We’re not here to hurt anyone. Is someone alive in there?”

They all stood still waiting to hear any kind of response. The door moved like someone was trying to push it open but was too weak or sick to do it. 

Daryl shouldered his crossbow and drew his knife. He pulled the door open and a pudgy young chocolate lab that had it’s paws up on the door flopped out. He walked to Daryl, sniffed at his shoe, sat and woofed.

“Christ, dog. You the one that’s been shitting all over the place?” Merle asked.

“How’d she get so pudgy, I wonder,” Maggie asked as she bent down to rub her head. The pup nuzzled Maggie’s touch and whimpered.

Daryl walked into the kennel section with Rick right behind him and the pup following them both. They carefully side-stepped dozens of piles of poop. As they passed cages that held the remains of animals that starved, some of the girls started sobbing. The crate at the end had been unlatched. 

Daryl looked down at the puppy that had started following him around like a… well, like a puppy. “This yours, lil’ ass-kicker?” he asked. The pup woofed in reply. 

At the next turn they found themselves in a storage area. There were probably twenty oversized bags of dogfood, most of them torn into and kibble sprinkled all over the room. A couple buckets of water sat in the corner. Maybe they had been mop buckets at one point but L’il Ass Kicker walked over to one and tried to lick out of it but it must have been dry. She’d been surviving like a champ.

She waddled back over to them and rolled over exposing her little belly and Rick bent down and indulged her. He smiled back up at Daryl. “Can we keep her?” Everyone laughed a little and Maggie finally puked. With no dead to contend with in the kennel, they decided to check the house next. 

Merle insisted that the dog should be left where she was until the main house could be cleared but Lil’ Ass Kicker did not agree. She wiggled and weaved her way through everyone’s feet as they left and ended up outside running laps around the kennel building while everyone, including Merle laughed at her. Maggie decided to handle the pup as the others went to the main house to clear it. There were walkers, two young boys and an older man. Probably Jessie’s father and siblings. Daryl put the kids down and Merle took the old man. Rick and Glenn helped drag them out of the home and Carol and Andrea went to work getting them ready to burn.

Daryl and Rick searched the second floor, Merle and Glenn searched the first and when everyone reconvened outside, they agreed. It was perfect. There were enough beds for everyone. The pantries were already stocked with a fairly good supply of staples and there was a gas stove for cooking. When they checked out the property, the pup running circles around the group as they walked, they found a hand pump for a well. Probably to bathe the dogs, but it was like a goldmine and Carol couldn’t stop smiling at all the praise she was getting for the idea. 

They unloaded the El Camino with the supplies they’d brought down from the mountain and had a hot dinner on the gas stove. They didn’t talk too much strategy and mostly just watched and laughed as the pup climbed all over everyone begging for better food than the stale kibble she’d been living off of. They agreed they had enough dog food that they shouldn’t waste their stuff on the pup, but Daryl did. Just a piece. And he saw Rick do it once. And Glenn. Each of the girls. And finally Merle let the dog lick his plate clean which he insisted wasn’t “feeding the dog” because it was just residue from the stew. 

They decided to keep doing two for watch and they would walk the perimeter of the gate every half hour. Merle and Carol would take first watch. Maggie offered to take second and Glenn obviously offered to join her. 

Carol put her things in what appeared to be Jessie’s room. Glenn and Maggie took the master. Andrea took the pull-out couch in the den. 

By the time Daryl was looking for a spot, the only thing left was the room the two young boys must have slept in. There was a set of twin beds, one on each side of the room, and a crap load of toys. He sat down on the bed furthest in, put his crossbow down and started taking off his shoes. This was a nicer bed than he’s ever had in his entire life. Fluffy, lots of blankets. Lil Ass-Kicker came speeding into the room and leaped onto Daryl’s bed. “You pee on it and you’re out,” Daryl grumbled, attempting to sound firm but finding that it came out more like unexpected baby talk. The pup crawled into his lap and squirmed around until Daryl relented and started petting her. 

Merle popped his head in and stood by the other bed. He looked at it and then over at Daryl. “I’m taking the extra couch in the den,” he said with a wink and then a moment later Rick walked in. 

“Ok if I take this one?” he asked kinda nervous. He wouldn’t have been nervous before the kiss. He would have just plopped down and started babbling about how great everything was there and probably about what his bedroom used to look like at home. But now he was quiet and fumbly. Daryl didn’t want there to be awkwardness. How do you fix that?

“Course,” he said. 

“I think you’re her favorite,” Rick said as he sat down nodding at the sleeping puppy on Daryl’s lap.

“Her favorite is anyone who’s petting her. A miracle she survived,” Daryl said as Rick smiled and sat down across the room on his own bed.

“Never thought I’d see a puppy again,” Rick said quietly. The tone in his voice sounded wistful.

“You had one?” Daryl asked

Rick nodded with a nostalgic smile. “Two. Buttons and Tabitha. They were boxers, brother and sister. I’m sure they’re gone. We never kept 20 lb bags of dogfood laying around,” he said with a forced laugh.

“This one’s a survivor. Just like us,” Daryl said as he rubbed at one of her little paws. They were quiet again for a few minutes. Daryl rubbing Lil’ Ass Kicker as her tail wagged.

The room was dim with the onset of night and Daryl finally laid back on the bed, stretched out with the pup curled up at his feet. Rick took off his shoes and socks and stripped down to his boxers and climbed into his own bed. Daryl hadn’t even considered pulling off his jeans and actually trying to sleep comfortable instead of sleeping ready to run. He tugged them off without waking the pup and got under the sheet with just his own boxers and the plaid shirt with the arms cut off that he’d been wearing for weeks. 

He wondered if they were supposed to talk more about kissing and stuff but it had been a long day and before Daryl could figure out a way to ask about how things worked now that they kissed and they both liked kissing, he fell asleep.

It was much darker when Daryl was startled awake by murmurs. He instantly thought walkers and leaned over the bed to grab for a knife but quickly remembered where he was and who was with him. As Daryl’s eyes adjusted he could see Rick whimpering in the bed across the room, kicking sheets off like he was struggling. He looked down at the foot of the bed and the pup had left, probably to find another warm body that he could entice to pet him. 

“Rick?” Daryl said softly. When the other boy kept murmuring “No!”, Daryl called out a little louder. “Rick! You’re dreaming, man.” Rick startled awake and sat up. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to catch his breath. 

“Bad one?” Daryl asked. Hell, he’d had a few himself since it all started. They’re hard to shake off since waking doesn’t make it over. Still dead out there. Still probably going to see them again. Still probably going to be struggling for your life.

Rick swung his feet over the edge of the bed and Daryl scooted back against the wall, a silent, innocent offer in case Rick needed the comfort. And he did. Rick walked over and crawled wordlessly into Daryl’s bed, resting his head on Daryl’s chest and putting an arm around him. Daryl rubbed Rick’s back. This time it was shirtless and the feel of his warm skin against Daryl’s palm made his own skin tingle. He used his other hand and reached up to run fingers through Rick’s curls. He’d never been wrapped up with another person like this. It was so intimate, so close, like a thousand words but not a single one was spoken. Just touches and sighs. Rick slid his hands over Daryl’s chest. He wished he’d have taken his shirt off too, but he knew he couldn’t. Not with all the scars. He couldn’t have Rick worrying that Daryl wasn’t strong enough to protect everyone. Those scars meant he was weak. He was beaten. He couldn’t protect himself much less anyone else. He couldn’t share that with anyone. Especially not with Rick. 

Daryl loved holding Rick tight and wordless. They had grown closer and closer since the beginning of the end. They had a way of being so comfortable in one another’s silence. They would sit without words but still feel like they had a whole conversation. Was it things like that that made Rick want to kiss him in the first place?

After a while, Daryl stopped rubbing Rick’s back and stroking his hair and just held him. Rick reached for Daryl’s hand and kissed his knuckles and they fell asleep cuddled close together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A PUPPY! I finally figured out how to get the boys a puppy after writing over 95 fics!!!
> 
> So ...cuddling now. I guess the next three chapters will be all happily ever after, right? ---Well, to quote Donald Trump- "Wrong!"
> 
> (Ps- I truly hate myself for quoting Donald Trump)


	11. And it Was Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stylepoints to the rescue! Not only did she beta this fic, she's already working on my next one!

Daryl woke with the chirp of the first pre-dawn bird. The sky was still dark out the window but lighter than the deep of night. Daryl watched as the deep blue faded and dark orange grew low on the horizon. Waking to a sunrise, safe in this new home with Rick in his arms was a moment of time that would be permanently etched in Daryl’s memory forever. He felt a peace and a contentment that he had never known. He wanted to kiss Rick good morning. He wondered if that would be okay. It should be, right?

Rick had been making all the first moves. He kissed first. He held Daryl's hand. He was the one who crawled into Daryl's bed. Maybe it was okay to do something. Just a kiss on the forehead couldn't hurt.

Daryl laid still a while longer enjoying the feel of Rick's chest rising and falling against him, the smell of campfire and confidence and familiarity in Rick’s mess of curly hair. He barely had to move to reach, so he did it, a soft press of his lips to Rick’s forehead. 

Rick stirred at the touch and cuddled even tighter. Daryl couldn't help but smile. He never thought he'd be much for cuddling and hand holding but all of these innocent touches were so intimate and meaningful and frankly, all things he'd never felt before from anyone. Even the way Rick looks to him for support, advice, comfort. There was so much more to having someone in this way than Daryl ever realized. 

“Hope it was okay that I climbed in last night,” Rick mumbled with a sleepy morning voice.

“It's okay,” Daryl answered, petting again at those pretty curls. “I liked it.”

Rick sat up and looked down at Daryl as he still laid stretched out in bed. “I'm still kinda shocked you're… umm...like me. I never really got around to like, coming out or anything. Shane was the only one who knew what I was.”

Rick said “what I was” like it was a disease and that broke Daryl's heart. He had the same struggles, not being quite like everyone else. Wanting to be “normal” but knowing it would be a lie if he tried. Frankly, Daryl never thought he was worthy enough to find anyone that would want to be with him, boy _or_ girl. So in the grand scheme of things, he figured it didn't matter what he liked to look at and dream about. He’ll never understand how Merle seemed to pick up on it. It was wordless between them for the most part. Merle had never flat out accused and Daryl had never flat out admitted.

“Being like we are ain't really as big a thing now that you got the walking dead to compare it to as far as things that should make people shriek in horror,” Daryl said with a smile.

“You ever have a boyfriend?” Rick asked.

“No. I ain't never had nothin’. Not even really like… a regular friend.”

Daryl could see pity pouring out of Rick's eyes and he immediately regretted the admission. He tried to change the subject. “Have you?”

Rick shook his head no. “Had a girlfriend once in the eighth grade. She kissed me one time. It was gross. I'd have rather been kissing like Jake Gyllenhaal or Timothy Olyphant.”

“Nice choices,” Daryl said with a smile. 

Before he could stress out about what to say or do next there was a scratching sound then a bark at the door, followed by a loud knock and the growl of Merle's voice “Ain't on holiday. Get up, we got shit to figure out.”

They sat around Jessie Anderson’s dining room table eating dry, stale cereal for breakfast. Rick and Daryl shared a warm can of Ginger Ale. Glenn and Maggie clearly had some major changes overnight. Both couldn’t stop smiling. Daryl was fairly certain they did more than just cuddle and kiss foreheads.

Carol and Andrea had a map out that they were pouring over while Merle sat on the floor attempting to teach Ass Kicker to sit on command.

“We’re nicely stocked, but we should try to load up on as much as we can if we plan to stay here a while,” Rick said, starting out the conversation.

“We can head out down 16 to hunt. There’s woods and a creek out that way,” Daryl added. “But to stockpile other supplies, we need to be prepared to either go house to house or focus on a big haul and be prepared to fight a lot of dead.”

“Sit, damnit,” Merle said as he tried to push gently on Ass Kicker’s rear end. 

“Merle, maybe someone else should be in charge of dog training,” Maggie laughed as she got out of her chair and sat down on the floor calling Ass Kicker over to her. They continued to talk out a plan and play with the dog. In the end, they decided that Rick, Daryl, Merle and Andrea would make a run to a local food bank. It’s in a less ritzy neighborhood and they all felt confident that it would be the last place people would think to raid for food. Most folks were probably going for the better neighborhoods or the chain grocery stores. 

Before they left in the El Camino, Merle pulled Daryl aside.

“I know you got somethin’ goin’ now with the Boy Scout, but you keep yer head on straight out there,” Merle said firmly. Then he barked out a laugh. “That straight thing was an unintentional pun, bro. Sorry about that. I know you ain’t straight and whatever, okay? My point is, don’t be makin’ eyes at the kid if you should be keepin’ your eyes out for walkers. Plenty of time to eye him up or do whatever the fuck two dudes will do when you get back. You hear me?” 

“Yeah, Merle. I ain’t dumb. Ain’t gonna get myself killed right after I like… got this thing.” 

“Good don’t. Also- here’s a rule of thumb. No details. Don’t want to hear about what the hell goes on behind that bedroom door. I’m rooting for you to be the dude in this thing, but honest-to-God, I really don’t want you to tell me.”

Daryl blushed like mad. Although he’d noticed some twitching activity in his pants during some of the kissing and cuddling he hadn’t even thought much further than that. Hell, he didn’t even know what “further than that” really meant. Well, he had an idea. He wasn’t a complete moron. But who does what? And how do you get that started? And how long do you wait? Daryl shook it all from his head as he climbed into the back of the El Camino with Rick. He had to get his game face on. Wouldn’t be nothing to worry about working out if one of them didn’t make it back.

Merle said he remembered going to the Food Pantry on Cloyd Avenue when their mother was still alive and Daryl hadn’t even been born yet. When they banged on the front doors to draw the walkers there were six that had met the end of their world as poor as they’d lived it. They handled each of them easily with Daryl’s crossbow and knives from the others. Merle and Daryl stayed outside on guard while Andrea and Rick loaded up as much as they could get.

“You getting anywhere with Andrea?” Daryl asked as they waited. 

“‘Course I am. She was always just waiting for the right moment to give me the green light.”

“So the end of the world is the green light?” Daryl asked with a smile.

“I’ll be sharing that pull-out sofa with her by the end of the week,” Merle said confidently as he nodded up ahead at two walkers ambling towards them, both wearing Burger King uniforms. Daryl took them both down from a distance.

“Gettin’ good at that,” Merle said, looking at the bow. Daryl nodded with pride at the compliment. Once the vehicle was piled high, they all climbed in and Andrea took the wheel as they headed home. When they pulled into the long driveway, Daryl was overwhelmed with a feeling of home that he was not familiar with. He looked forward to seeing the others after a long day of looting, looked forward to seeing the pup, to crawling into his bed, and scooting over in it to make room for his… whatever it was that Rick was. 

It was almost like the old world that night. Well, not like Daryl’s old world. In Daryl’s old world there was emptiness and loneliness. But it was like the old world that should have been. Like a TV sitcom in the old world. Merle and Andrea fight-flirted all evening. Carol, Maggie and Glenn played cards. And Rick and Daryl tossed a football around the yard with Ass Kicker running back and forth between them. By the end of the night the dog was wiped out. And so were the rest of them. 

Daryl stripped to his boxers and a t-shirt for bed and climbed in, scooting over instantly for Rick to join him. It was unspoken that they would sleep together again. And Rick climbing in only in boxers and without words sent those butterflies to fluttering again. “You should take this off,” Rick said softly as he tugged at Daryl’s shirt.

Daryl frowned. He wished he could. It would feel amazing to press so much of his skin against so much of Rick’s, but… he couldn’t.

“Nah,” Daryl said without any further explanation. Rick kept looking deep into his eyes until it made Daryl feel like he needed to add more. “I don’t really like to.”

Rick cocked his head and kept waiting for the reason. Daryl laid down in bed hoping that Rick would just follow and cuddle against him and let them lie together quietly hearing the peaceful sounds of one another’s breaths. But Rick sat still waiting for more explanation. 

“I don’t look like you do. Perfect and smooth and flawless,” Daryl said as he ran a hand down Rick’s bare chest.

Rick nodded slowly. “Because of your ‘not good Dad’? Scars? I told you I’ve seen the bruises. I know what happened. You don’t gotta-”

“It makes me weak. Like I can’t protect yah, cause I couldn’t protect myself,” Daryl blurted out, surprised to hear the stark truth on his tongue.

There was pity in Rick’s eyes again and Daryl didn't’ care for that expression. He loved all the ways Rick looked to him, but this one way was not his favorite. 

“Daryl,” Rick said firmly. “I don’t give a shit about scars. They don’t mean shit. They mean your old man was an asshole and is probably rotting in hell as we speak. He was your dad and you were a kid. It don’t mean nothin’ today. You killed more of these things than the rest of us put together. I trust you to have my back always. You’re braver than I’ll ever be. You’re not weak.”

Daryl bit on a nail letting it all sink in. “You… I… I won’t ever let anything happen to you,” Daryl said, still concerned about how weak his scars made him feel.

“I know that. And same here,” Rick answered. Then he tugged again at Daryl’s shirt. “We’re together now, right? No secrets. No shame. It’s just me. Want you to be comfortable with me.”

Daryl could tell how bad Rick wanted to share this. This Dixon history. He wanted all of Daryl, the good, the bad, and the ugly scars, and that was utterly unexpected. But it made Daryl want to put his arms around the boy so damn bad. Made him want to connect with him so bad. So he did it. He took his shirt off but stayed where he was, laying on his back. Rick ran a hand down his bare arm, a soft smile on his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered and Daryl pshaw’d and rolled his eyes. 

You are,” Rick insisted. After a soft kiss to his lips, Rick encouraged Daryl to roll over with a nudge of his elbow and Daryl was almost in a trance as his heart throbbed for Rick. He obeyed the gentle push and before he knew it he was on his stomach, his trainwreck of a back on easy display for Rick.

He held his breath for the inevitable gasps. Held his body still expecting Rick to stand up off the bed and pace the floor with disgust. To make a big deal out of how awful-

But none of those things happened. Instead, Daryl felt something soft and warm against his back. Rick’s lips. He kissed the tip of his worst scar on the upper right of his shoulder and then continued to leave a trail of tender kisses all along it. The meaning in it was heavy and the emotions behind it were palpable and after all this time, after nights starved for food with no one to feed him, after evenings that started and ended at the end of his father’s belt, after the damned dead got up and walked, Daryl finally felt the swell of a tear in his eye. It spilled over the rim and ran down his dry cheek.

Rick kissed and rubbed at his back until Daryl was fighting sobs. He was so embarrassed. If Rick didn't look at the scars as weakness he would certainly look at this pathetic bawling over nothing as weak. 

Then, as if Rick could read his mind, he hugged tight to Daryl and whispered, “It's about time. I've cried to you a dozen times already and you always comfort me. Let me comfort you.”

Daryl let himself cry a little longer. He cried for Mr. Douglas. He cried for Dale. He cried for all the walkers he put down. He cried for all the people he'd seen killed right in front of his eyes on the day it all started. He cried because of his father’s anger. He cried for the loss of his mother so young. And finally he was all out of tears. 

All the while Rick held him tight, kissed at his shoulders and the crown of his head, rubbed warmth into his arms, his chest against Daryl's back. He whispered things, nice sweet things like “it's okay to cry” and “everything is going to be okay” and “I’m here.”

When Daryl could finally breathe without choking out a sob, he turned to Rick and pulled him close and kissed him with an intensity he didn’t even know he possessed. It was fire and earthquake and storm and at the same time it was gentle like the fall of an autumn leaf to the ground.

The feel of Rick's body against his own was indescribable. Daryl ran his hands over every part of Rick that he could reach. Their legs twisted together as they kissed and touched and moaned softly at the feeling of one another, bare chest against bare chest, soft lips kissing at soft lips, both of them straining in their boxers. They fell into a rhythm of movement, rutting against one another. Rick pulled his mouth away from Daryl’s and kissed at his neck and along his shoulders and Daryl was in a daze as he listened to the gasps that escaped his own lips. When Rick put his mouth back to Daryl’s, he turned them so that Rick was on top guiding their motions and Daryl was in absolute ecstasy. They broke again to gasp for breaths and Rick put his forehead against Daryl’s shoulder and he whimpered softly. Daryl could make out some of the soft words pouring from him “Daryl” and “God” and “Please”.

Daryl’s hands slid down and cupped at Rick’s ass and the feel of Rick’s hips moving, Daryl’s hands on one side of him and his straining erection on the other was finally too much to control and Daryl cried out as he came in his boxers. Just moments after Rick murmured “God, god, god” and Daryl could feel the other boy’s cock throbbing out it’s release. Daryl tried to get his breaths back under control but every exhale was a whimper. When he’d taken care of things himself it was never that good. It was something wholly different to have someone with you, caring about you, wanting you. Rick slid off Daryl and rested his head on Daryl's chest as the two quietly caught their breath.

“We’re gonna need to get some more underwear or we’re gonna have to start sleeping naked,” Daryl finally said and Rick laughed so hard he went into a fit of coughing. They slept wrapped in each other’s arms, peaceful except for a few raspy coughs from Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no... Ominous coughing!


	12. Govern the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck to everyone in watching the premiere. Remember - we always have fan fiction.
> 
> For my friends oversees that can't watch til later- don't worry- I won't make any reference to the premiere in my authors notes in tomorrow's final chapter.
> 
> Thanks to Stylepoints, as always, for the beta!!

Ass Kicker was curled up by Rick’s side as Daryl wrung out a damp cloth and put it on his forehead. It had been three weeks since the coughing started and now it was high fever, chills, coughing so hard he’d throw up and dehydration.

“I think you should try a few more spoonfuls of this soup. We have to get something in you,” Daryl said softly.

“Hurts to swallow,” Rick answered, his voice jagged and rough like razor blades and thorns.

“I know,” Daryl said as he stroked his hand through Rick’s sweat-damp curls. “Just a few though and take another pill with some water then I promise I’ll leave you alone.” It was the last pill of their second round of attempting to get antibiotics into him but they were guessing on which antibiotic. They just used what Daryl, Maggie and Merle could scavenge from a drug store that had already been looted.

“Don’t want you to leave me alone,” Rick whispered and tried to smile.

Daryl lifted a spoon to Rick’s lips and he took it, cringing with the swallow, but he got some down. When he took the pill with a small sip of water he erupted into coughs that sent him heaving over the side of the bed into the basin that Daryl kept there for him. Whatever little bit of food Daryl had spent the last hour ladling into him had come out in the blink of an eye.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Rick whimpered as he rolled back over in bed. 

Daryl rubbed his back. “It’s ok. It’s ok. Just try to get some rest.” He sat with Rick and Ass Kicker for the next hour. Even if Rick was asleep, just being with him was something Daryl needed. In the old world he’d been a loner. Not talking in school. No need for friends. He just focused on getting from one place to the next, focused on surviving. If it weren’t for Merle, he could probably have gone weeks without talking and no one would notice. But now? Daryl knew now what having someone was like. What being with people, having them need you and you needing them was like and there was no going back. He needed all these people, but mostly he needed Rick. Rick was… everything. Daryl wasn’t just surviving because it was human nature to survive. He was surviving because each day he needed to hear Rick’s voice. Touch his face. Look in his eyes. Feel his affection and trust. Rick was the first thing he thought about every morning and the last thing he thought about every night. What had Daryl thought about during those times before? He couldn’t even remember. But he was certain, if Rick was no longer here twenty years from now, the boy would still be his first and last thought everyday. If he could even keep breathing without Rick on this earth, that is.

Once Rick slipped into a fitful rest, Daryl petted Ass Kicker. “Keep an eye on him, girl. I’ll be right back.”

Daryl walked downstairs to see the entire group sitting around the dining room table. They all looked to him for a report as soon as he walked in. 

“Nothing is helping him. I don’t know what to do. We need… we need to figure out like how to hook him up to an IV or something. He needs fluids,” Daryl said.

“Maybe we can gets some books from the library about how to do stuff like that,” Maggie suggested. “I… I could try-”

“He needs a real doctor,” Daryl interrupted.

“That’s old world, brother,” Merle answered in a much softer tone than he usually used. “Ain’t no doctors no more. Ain’t no-”

Merle was interrupted by a bark. And that was rare because Ass Kicker was a quiet dog. She rarely ever made noise as if she inherently knew that she was born into a world where quiet was a survival skill. Then she barked again over and over and Daryl flew back up the steps to Rick’s room with Merle on his tail, only one thought on his mind. Rick had turned. He died and turned and Daryl’s world would be over. That was all he could think as he took the stairs two at a time. 

When he got to their room, the two twin beds pushed together like they had been now for weeks, Rick was shaking uncontrollably and arching his back off the bed. 

“Rick! Fuck. Rick!” Daryl shouted as he sat by him and tried to steady him. Maggie ran in behind Merle as Ass Kicker continued to bark out her warning. 

“He’s having a seizure,” Maggie said and sat on the other side of him. “We just have to let his body do what it needs to. He’ll settle down,” she said confidently. 

Daryl watched, a gentle hand on Rick’s forehead, and finally the seizing stopped and Rick collapsed, drenched from sweat and completely unconscious. 

“Get the car ready. Put some of our old sleeping bags in the back for him,” Daryl said and he picked Rick up in his arms. He was light as a feather after weeks of barely eating. He’d lost so much weight.

“Where you gonna go?” Merle asked. 

“I have an idea.”

\-------------------------------------

Rick was spread out in the back of the El Camino on top of their old sleeping bags and wrapped in blankets. Maggie had Ass Kicker in her arms. “You can’t go, lil’ girl. It’s too dangerous for excitable puppies,” she whispered. The pup whimpered and whined. She had clearly chosen Rick and Daryl as her favorites and everyone knew it.

“This is a risk,” Merle said again and Daryl whirled around to him. 

“Well, we’re out of options,” he yelled. “We ain’t doctors. We can’t keep sitting here watching him die. If Guillermo was going to kill us he’d have done it already. He didn’t. His one boy had a perfect set of stitches and we found scrubs in the El Camino. If they're still there? If they’re still alive, someone has medical experience. I have hunting experience. I can pay them with fresh meat. I ain’t asking for favors. I’m asking to...to… work together. We need people, Merle. Just like Rick’s always said.” Daryl got behind the wheel of the car and shut the door.

“I should come with you,” Merle said firmly.

“Your mouth is gonna get us turned away. Don’t want a lot of people. Don’t want to make them nervous. Just me and Rick.” He started the car as everyone watched from the side of the driveway. The sun had set and it was dark night with too much overcast to expect to see stars.

“How are you going to even find them?” Glenn asked nervously. 

“I have an idea. We’ll be back,” Daryl said and drove off down the long driveway and towards First International Foods. By Daryl’s estimate it was probably December. It was cold out for Georgia and they had started to notice that the walkers seemed to move slower in the cold weather and that had been helping them. There weren’t very many of them in Daryl’s path to the Ethnic food market. There had been a lightning strike a few days prior which caused a fire off to the west and hordes of the walkers had all ambled towards it, leaving the town less populated than it had been.

Daryl pulled into the parking lot where they had first encountered the other group of survivors. He left the car running and jumped out to check on Rick. He was still asleep and slick with sweat and fever. “Rick. I’m trying my best to get help, okay? Please stay with me,” Daryl whispered. “Don’t die on me. I need you so much.” His voice shook on his last sentence and he angrily wiped a tear out of his eye as he went back to the driver’s seat. He flashed the headlights. On and off quickly three times. Then three slow blinks. Then three fast blinks again. It was morse code. SOS. Daryl thought for a moment as he continued the blinking pattern that he would have made a really good Boy Scout. 

After about half an hour of the repetition he finally saw a truck coming down the main road. Not just any truck- Merle’s old aqua Ford. Daryl stood by the El Camino with his hands raised and waited for them to pull in.

It was just two this time. The young one that had been called Miguel and Guillermo, clearly the leader. 

“Never thought I’d see my ole’ El Camino again, mis amigos. Thought you boys was just passing through,” Guillermo said as he climbed out of the truck with a gun aimed at Daryl. 

“It’s just me. And Rick,” Daryl nodded his head towards the bed of the car. “He’s sick.”

Guillermo walked over and looked into the El Camino. “He looks like shit, man,” Guillermo said flatly. “Why you bringing him here and SOS’ing us Macgyver-style?”

“You can help. Your boy there,” Daryl said nodding to Miguel. “He had perfect stitches when we were here before. There were scrubs in the car. You have some kind of medical skills. I can hunt. I can pay you with fresh meat for your people. We can help each other here,” Daryl said, recognizing how much he’d started to sound like Rick. “You can save him. Please.”

Guillermo looked Daryl up and down. “I’m a janitor, man.” Daryl just blinked, his arms still raised up. Guillermo took another look at Rick. “He bit?”

“No. No man. It’s just a flu or something but he keeps vomiting and we tried antibiotics but I don’t know if he can keep them down. We can’t get him hydrated,” Daryl finally decided the raised hands weren’t necessary and he dropped them and climbed into the back of the El Camino, putting his hand on Rick’s forehead. “He’s burning up,” Daryl whimpered.

Guillermo looked back to Miguel and then to Daryl again. “We have some nurses. Can probably get an IV in him to keep him hydrated. Stay in the back with him. I’ll drive,” Guillermo said and he nodded to Miguel who climbed into the driver’s side of the truck and pulled out onto the road in the direction they’d come. Once the El Camino started moving, Guillermo driving, Daryl held onto Rick’s hand. 

“I’m getting you help. Everything is going to be ok.”

Rick suddenly opened his eyes. They weren’t the cloudy, unfocused eyes of the dead, but it was clear he wasn’t in his right mind. “Mom?”

“No, man. It’s me. It’s Daryl.”

Rick was clearly not hearing. He was delirious with fever. “I can’t go to school today, Mom. I don’t feel good.”

“You don’t have to go to school,” Daryl said even though he knew Rick wasn’t hearing him. 

“I don’t want you guys to be mad at me,” Rick mumbled. 

“No one’s mad at you, Rick. Everything is okay,” Daryl said stroking his hair. 

Rick licked at his dry, cracked lips. “I need to tell you something, Mom. I need to tell you that I love him. I love Daryl. And I don’t want you guys to be disappointed in me but I-” Rick started coughing and Daryl helped him roll over a bit in case it turned into puking, which it did. 

“Rick?” Daryl waited for an answer but Rick had passed out again. “I love you, too,” Daryl whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chap to go!


	13. The Breath of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Stylepoints for the beta.

_Two Weeks Later_

Daryl got the buck on the first shot. “Thata boy, baby brother!” Merle shouted. “God DAMN you got good with that crossbow!” Merle jogged up to their kill and knelt beside it. “Big one! This is-”

“Not ours,” Daryl finished. 

“I know, I know. But with the size of this we should all get free physicals!” Merle crowed, still as excited as he always was after a successful hunt. For a moment, the two of them out in the woods field dressing a deer felt like nothing had ever changed. But things did. Everything changed, the dead up and walking not even the most impactful part.

“Come on man, let’s not fuck around here. I wanna get back,” Daryl said as he worked, focused on the task at hand. 

“Christ,” Merle said with a hard eye roll. “Guess it’s been like two hours without your little boyfriend by your side so you’re getting the shakes.”

“Shut up,” Daryl said. Then against his better judgement he added, “And it’s been more like four hours.”

Merle laughed. “Jesus boy, your puppy-love makes me queasy. I got me a piece of ass too and you don’t see me lamenting over being gone from Andrea for four whole hours.”

Daryl stopped what he was doing and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Andrea didn’t almost die.”

“Rick didn’t almost die,” Merle groaned. “He had a headache.” Daryl punched at him knowing Merle was just trying to fuck with him on purpose. That kind of picking was Dixon for “I’m glad he’s okay.” and “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“He’s coming back with us today, y’know. Felipe said he was in the clear. Ass Kicker is going to go ape shit. I bet she missed him so much.”

“Neither one a’ you have been around the past couple weeks. Good luck getting her away from Mags. I think you’ve been replaced. Lil’ pup knows who needs lookin’ after I guess,” Merle said as they lifted the deer and carried it towards the old Ford. 

“Why’s Mags need lookin’ after?” Daryl asked. 

Merle looked at him and cocked his head. “Oh yeah, you ain’t been around. She’s preggers, man.”

“What?!” Daryl said with a smile. “You’re kidding me! Thought they were using condoms!”

Merle shrugged. “Only 100% effective birth control is being a queer like you and Rick.” Merle barked out a laugh at his own joke. “You got that goin’ for yah.” 

They were quiet a moment then Merle added in that not-often-heard sincere Dixon tone, “Actually think they were trying on purpose. They’re over the moon about it. Why you think Carol had me bring her to Guillermo’s to get some medical training?”

“Lot of reasons for that,” Daryl responded. “She’s really picking it up, too. Good to have that, but I’m not sure she’ll be coming back to the Kennel permanently.”

“Let me guess,” Merle said as they slid the deer into the truck. “Guillermo.”

Daryl smiled. “Hey, us Dixon’s can’t be the only ones getting lucky after the apocalypse. He’s a good guy. Never seen her smile so much as I’ve seen the past couple weeks at the Nursing Home.”

As they drove back to Guillermo’s community, Merle confessed. “Gotta stop home before we deliver this deer. I owe G’s Abuela ten cans of dog food.”

“Merle!” Daryl shouted. “You gotta stop getting your ass beat in poker by an 82 year old asthmatic. Jesus.”

“She cheats, Daryl. I just ain’t got the heart to call her on it,” Merle insisted. “‘Sides, they got them couple yappy mutts, too. They need it. And we got plenty”

Daryl looked over at Merle and wondered for a second if he was losing on purpose. “You can go back later. We’re closer to Guillermo’s.” And as he said it the Nursing Home came into view. He pulled up to the loading dock and Jorge opened the doors and came out to help with the haul. 

“Damn, son. That buck is huge,” he said as he looked over the tailgate. 

“Merle will help show you how to butcher it,” Daryl said as he looked over to his brother for the nod to go ahead and check on Rick.

As Daryl jogged up the stairs to the room Rick had been staying in he couldn’t help but smile with excitement. He’d sat by his side while he was unconscious for so long and now that Rick was awake he hated any moment that he had to be away from him. When he turned into the room, Carol and Guillermo were standing over him and Rick was lying still. Daryl stopped breathing. “What happened?” he asked, panicked.

Carol turned around and pulled off the stethoscope that she was using to listen to Rick’s heartbeat. “Nothing, just practicing,” she answered with a smile. Daryl looked back to Rick who was now sitting up with a giant grin. 

“You worried?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m worried. You were almost dead, man,” Daryl said as he pushed past G and Carol aside to sit next to him and kiss his brow. “Don’t fucking practice shit like that on him,” Daryl whined to Carol. 

“How’d the hunt go?” she asked.

“Big buck downstairs. Merle’s teaching Jorge how to butcher it,” Daryl responded.

“Merle owes my Abuela ten cans of dog food,” Guillermo said with a lifted brow and a hand gently on Carol’s hip.

“Yeah, I know. He’ll bring it over later. Tell your gram to stop hustlin’ my brother. He’s a moron,” Daryl said as he lifted the cup of water by the bed to Rick’s lips. Guillermo and Carol left them alone as Rick took the cup out of Daryl’s hands. 

“I can eat and drink on my own now, y’know.” 

Daryl shrugged. “Got used to feedin’ ya.” He leaned in and kissed Rick’s soft lips, climbing onto the bed and overtop of him. 

“Don’t get too comfy. I wanna go home,” Rick whispered. 

Home. It was a word that used to have a different meaning for Daryl. It was a word that he didn’t use to yearn for in the old world, but now home meant something different. It meant a family that cared about him. It meant a place he felt comfortable. It meant a soft bed that he shared with a boy he loved more than life itself. It meant a pup and a yard and laughing and hugs and soft kisses and warmth. There was a time Daryl never knew where he wanted to be. He was just waiting. Waiting to go from one place to the next. Just surviving, somehow. But now, in a time when all it should be was surviving, Daryl wanted to live. He wanted to wake up each day with Rick at his side and the sun in the sky and earth under his feet. He wanted to work hard to have good things, to have food and a community and a family. 

Sometimes Daryl felt guilty. Guilty that he never lost but only gained when the world ended. And since Daryl was not alone anymore, that guilt didn’t bury him. He’d tell Rick. He’d tell him how guilty it made him feel that Rick lost everything and Daryl’s life only got better. And Rick would hold him. Kiss him. Brush fingers through his hair and tell him that Rick did lose things, but he also found things too. And that Rick was as happy to have Daryl as Daryl was to have him. 

It was still just the beginning of the end of the world. Only months into it. But they were ready for whatever would come their way. And they wouldn’t just survive it... they would live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Peace, Love, Rickyl.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you are intrigued and interested in continuing! This is completely written and half-beta'd and I'll posting daily! A little something to lead us up the dreaded season 7 premiere!


End file.
